New York: Glitterati, Boulter, Michel. Berkeley: Counterpoint, Darwin, Charles. The Autobiography of Charles Darwin. Whitefish, Mont. On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of favoured races in the struggle for life. Harmondsworth: Wordsworth Classics, Dawkins, Richard. The Blind Watchmaker. London: Penguin, Hodge, Jonathan, Radick, Gregory eds. The Cambridge Companion to Darwin.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Grafen, Alen, Ridley, Mark. Oxford: Oxford University Press, Hodge, MJS. Darwin Studies: A theorist and his Theories in their Contexts. Aldershot: Ashgate, Hodgson, Amanda. Kingsley, Charles. The Water Babies. Harmondsworth: Penguin Popular Classics, Kort, Pamela, Holbein, Max.
Darwin Art and the Search for Origins. Stuttgart: Art Stock Books, Lawson, Kristan. Chicago: Chicago Review Press, Markle, Sandra. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, Merrill, Lynn M. The Romance of Victorian Natural History. Berkeley: University of California Press, Munro, James, Donald Diana. New Haven, Conn. Padel, Ruth. Darwin: A Life in Poems.
Pullman, Philip. The Amber Spyglass. London: Scholastic Press, Schanzer, Rosalyn. Washington: National Geographic, Stove, David. Contents - Previous document - Next document. Our captaincy was positively puzzling, and our batting was positively ridiculous," said Mumbai Indians chief mentor Shaun Pollock. Meanwhile, the IPL has organised special coaching classes for young cricketers, where they can learn subtle nuances of the game from Sunil Gavaskar and Ravi Shastri.
The former cricketing greats will explain and demystify core concepts such as "singles add to the total", "the team batting second knows their target", and "it's important to hit the ball into the gaps", for the benefit of the eager youngsters. In other news that is sure to delight younger fans, the animation industry now follows Bollywood in showing an interest in the IPL.
Apparently, animation studios are keen to cast Ramiz Raja as one of the vultures in a Jungle Book remake, hire the Vodafone Zoozoos as body doubles for Casper the Friendly Ghost, and launch Gaurav Kapoor as India's first live-action claymation superstar. To help make this website better, to improve and personalize your experience and for advertising purposes, are you happy to accept cookies and other technologies? A shadow reveals all, and the IPL gets animated d.
Finch's Australia shed aggression but not winning ways 15h Andrew Miller at Lord's. What India need to do against England's key players 5h Aakash Chopra. Why aren't there more true allrounders like Shakib in ODIs? What do you think they'll do? I just look at him and laugh, shaking my head. Paula and I sit there for a minute in the shade keeping one eye on the Tour, but all seems quiet except for the few tourists milling about. It is her first visit to Rennes-le-Chateau and it is already turning into quite an adventure. But the worst they can do is throw us off the plateau and if that's the case than I suggest we start celebrating now.
Reaching into his shoulder bag the sorcerer withdraws a battered copy of the Clavicle of Solomon, opening the grimoire to display its seals to camera. I turn to face the mirror mounted above the hearth. The mirror that was placed here back in Sauniere's day was broken — and I was the one that broke it! But why It's all starting to make a ghastly kind of sense. I can certainly understand now why the mayor hadn't wanted Uranie to set foot in the tower. The previous tenant of the domain, Henri Buthion, had broken it in half to see if Sauniere had left a message behind it.
He was searching for the treasure and had dug up the whole domaine. Then one day his daughters looked in the mirror and saw the devil.
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They got scared and ended up at my place. They told me about what they had seen and I realized there were certain formulas that would allow his appearance, that would open the gate I step closer, seeing only my own reflection, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the doorway behind me and Simon's puzzled face as he appears breathlessly on the threshold. It seems too simple to be true, that the portal could be right here, under our noses all along, yet it has a certain Cocteauesque logic to it after all.
I wonder if there is really a demon behind the glass, staring back at us this very moment and once again feel the giddy sensation of being suspended between two worlds, between 'reality ' and its reflection. I reach out, fingertips gently touching the unyielding surface In our next instalment: - The mystery deepens as Karim is forced to take to the air to fly Uranie's bearings in the microlite and all hell breaks loose in the Grotto of the Magdalene.
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Preface - Notes on an unknown religion. In fact the first treatment I wrote on the subject under the title 'The Devil's Chessboard was submitted to Channel Four Television's religion department twenty-two years ago. At the time we were turned down flat and politely shown the door. When it came to submitting a new treatment to the Pyrenean Film Commission a few weeks ago I found that very little other than the title and the names of some of the interviewees who had sadly passed away in the interim needed to be changed.
The proposed subtitle however caused considerable debate. Karim Hussain, the project's director of photography and a friend and ally of long standing, was strongly in favor of 'notes on a new religion' which he considered to be more direct, more threatening and just plain punchier than 'notes on an unknown religion'. The word 'unknown' carries all kinds of negative connotations putting one in mind of cheesy old television shows and that truly regrettably Amicus anthology with Peter Cushing concerning a global conspiracy mounted by killer cats.
I tried to argue that at least 'The Unknown' was a genuine classic but Karim wasn't buying it. It seems to me that this difference of opinion over the most appropriate subtitle neatly encapsulates the two dominant schools of thought over what has really being going here in this remote European backwater. The same argument obtains to the former inhabitants of this land, the so-called 'Cathars' and the Albigensian heresy that brought about the fourth crusade.
There are those who believe that the 'Cathars' represented an earlier extant form of Christianity similar to the creed practised by John the baptist and the Essenes while other historians insist that it was a more recent theological mutation, influenced by Manicheism and introduced to the south by Bogomil missionaries in the latter part of 12 th century. Since the temporal power of the Catholic church beganto wane at the close of the 19 th century an ever increasing number of extremely strange individuals have found themselves drawn to this area and over the course of little more than a hundred years they have produced a vast and ever growing body of written material, much of it extremely fanciful — a trend that may have begun with the publication of Napoleon Peyrat's 'Grande Histoire des Albigeois' in and which finds its most recent expression in the work of popular authors such as Dan Brown, and Kate Mosse, not to mention our own humble efforts here on Terra Umbra.
It is easy to believe that thanks to a series of unique historical and geographical factors the area , affectionately now known as the 'Zone', has become a kind of black hole in modern day 'consensus' reality where odd beliefs and outlandish conspiracy theories can happily take root and prosper. To an unkind outside observer it may appear to be a sort of outdoor psychiatric hospital where a growing legion of crazy folk spouting deeply weird ideas and theories have influenced both each other's thinking and the paradigms as a whole to the point of creating a new belief system, what, to all intents and purposes, amounts to a 'new religion', a woolly, uncodified 'pseudo religion based on pseudo history that bears little or no relationship to the actual past and the mysterious, long vanished faith of the 'Cathars'.
In our lengthy investigation of this neck of the woods I have arrived at a rather different conclusion. When you take time out to listen to everyone's stories, to hear all points of view a disturbing commonality of experience begins to emerge. There are points on which the opinions of various pilgrims, cranks, cultists, neo-Cathars, pseudo historians, treasure hunters and casual tourists seem to concur as if each one is attempting to approach the same indefinable mystery, each in their own way and words.
Once one begins to graph those commonalities a vast outline gradually emerges, like the long hidden remains of some invisible edifice, buried for untold generations. I have come to believe that what we are dealing with here is not a new religion but something ancient and unknown, a force inherent in the land that has been here long years before the Cathars or the Druids, a mystery that has haunted our dreams and belief systems since the dawn of time.
The stories heard over the years about the area concealing 'portals' or gateways to other worlds may be fanciful enough but here in the Zone it really does seem as if some other realm of experience overlaps with our own, as if the day to day reality of those who wander into this area is steadily influenced and reshaped by the morphogenetic field of some other time or paradigm, a subtle, insistent signal received by the unconscious mind and either blocked out or re-interpreted in countless individual ways. A dream that always returns, often different in its individual details but always the same in its essential characteristics.
The old gods it would seem are stirring in their sleep. So below: The Shadow Theatre interceptor fitted out with the new GoPro in order to serve as the shoot's official camera vehicle. In the summer of a team was assembled in Montsegur to document that shared dreaming, to test some of the wilder claims made about the area and open a window to the 21 st century by bringing cameras and cutting edge thermal technology to the borderland between worlds. Above: Karim Hussain and yours truly back in action - photograph by Chloe Roberts.
Sunday June 10 — Montsegur:. Although the morning was warm and sunny the day rapidly clouded over and by the time Karim and the project's producer, Fabrice Lambot, of Metaluna Productions, were on their way into the Zone from Toulouse airport the skies had opened in a deluge, with enough wind behind it for the rain to be practically horizontal. The squall was fortunately short-lived and by midnight the wind had lulled. Making our way to Hannibal's Point, the crag overlooking the gorges of the Carroulet, we set up our first shot by the dim glow of the single mag light available to us.
We decided to kick off our exercises with a time-lapse on the T2ID exposing one frame every thirty seconds with the shutter open all the way to see what the pog looked like when the moonless darkness was stripped away. With the shutter open this long the night is revealed to be amber, probably a side effect of the ambient light from the village's sodium lamps. You're my king. I feel so good now. Like a cloud Moral is good with the team filled with a spirit of bold enthusiasm for the adventure ahead. Above: Viewing the rushes - photograph by Gina Varella.
A gloomy start to the day with the sky leaden and overcast. I rolled out of bed into my black suit and bow tie to rendezvous with Fabrice for a am meeting with Jean Michel, the mayor of Montsegur. Fabrice was feeling a little delicate as his sleep had been troubled by strange dreams in which he had imagined I was ' some kind of vampire guy ' trying to lure him up the pog. It was more complex than that. Last night I completely lost track of time.
I woke up, thinking it was morning, but it was only am. Then I was too frightened to go back to sleep for a long time. We had just long enough to get caffeinated before rolling into the mayor's office. Jean Michel, a former gendarme turned civic functionary, was his usual truculent self. He's never particularly cheery in the mornings but brightened once a suitable bribe had been settled on.
A generous cash donation to the village's civic coffers. Fabrice had been ducking our mails but after setting his mind at rest about our motives he gladly agreed to a summit meeting tomorrow night at the 'The Smoking Potato' 'A la Patate qui Fume' , the excellent new restaurant in Montsegur that was to become our unofficial headquarters during the shoot.
Above: Rennes-le-Chateau awaits - photograph by Scarlett Amaris. After making a pit stop for more coffee at Shadowtheatre HQ, we pulled Karim out of the shower and high-tailed it to Rennes-le-Chateau to meet with our second mayor of the day, Alexander Painco. While Jean Michel had requested what amounted to a token fee to allegedly be put towards the welfare of the community, Monsieur Painco, who after all was in charge of one of the hottest 'mystery spots' on the planet, was known to be a good deal more ambitious, charging other crews up to a grand a day for the privilege of shooting in the church and Sauniere's domain.
We rendezvoused with Peter and Anneke, our friends and local tour leaders, outside the church and proceeded to the town hall. Peter has had innumerable dealing with Alex over the last few years and we were counting on his presence to come up with an acceptable middle ground solution. They're all crazy. The village of Bugarach had been in and out of the news over the last year after allegedly becoming the focus of several international UFO cults, who believe the area will offer refuge from a coming apocalypse, apparently scheduled on the winter solstice.
Considering the fact that Rennes-le-Chateau itself is living under a curse, I was quite taken aback by the opprobrium Alex showed towards Bugarach. Eventually a deal was struck with him that included access to the church, the Tour Magdala, the Domain, and Sauniere's secret rooms. To clinch the deal, we had lunch in the mayor's new restaurant, which only opened a few weeks ago, another sign of the booming 'mystery trade' that has transformed Rennes-le-Chateau over the last few years into sort an esoteric Disneyland, a Mecca for slightly deranged New Ager's, conspiracy theorist's, and occult thrill seekers.
After lunch we repaired to the nearest hardware depot to stock up on a few essential supplies before driving back to Montsegur and literally into the teeth of a gathering storm. The weather patterns have been extremely unstable lately, see-sawing from summer sunshine to freezing wintry rain, from one half an hour to the next. While the rain is bad enough, the turbulent winds could be even more of a problem. After an attempt to shoot another time-lapse image on the D — this time of the 'white lady' formation on the Mountain de la Frau — was curtailed by incoming rain. With two huge meals a day and all this rain I am worried I'll start putting on weight unless we see some action soon.
Tuesday June 12 — Montsegur — Bugarach. Once again Fabrice informed us that his sleep had been troubled by dreams, this time concerning a mysterious green serpent. We got an early start, stopping for a coffee and croissant in Quillan before making our way via Puilarens and Galamus Gorge to the 'notorious upside down' mountain. The village of Bugarach, nestled in the mountain's shadow, seemed as sleepy as ever with no sign of the influx of UFO cultists and doomsday enthusiasts predicted by the media.
The mayor, Jean-Pierre de Lord, jovially confirmed that the story had been blown out of all proportion by the press. This seemed a wee bit disingenuous as Monsieur de Lord has been the principal interviewee in pretty much all the reportage that has appeared to date on this nebulous affair. The fact that his office was actively selling postcards depicting flying saucers hovering over the mountain only deepened our suspicions that village's leadership had been secretly promoting the whole business from the very top.
Monsieur de Lord was extremely accommodating, agreeing to an interview and even signing the release form in advance without charging us a dime — a laissez-faire attitude that contrasted sharply with our treatment in Rennes-le-Chateau. He insisted that while the UFO stories may be little more than hype there really was something going on in the area, insisting that we climb to the top of the mountain to 'feel the energy' for ourselves.
He also insisted that we get in touch with Jean-Pierre Montes, a local folklorist and expert in secret societies whom I had first interviewed for Channel Four television's religion department on my first trip to the Zone in the summer of In point of fact Jean-Pierre Montes was the man who had originally tipped me off to the notion that if I could learn 'who held the patent on the calorimeter then I would uncover the true identity of Fulcanelli the master alchemist' — a scrap of information that had later turned out to be very valuable indeed.
Wending our way through the densely wooded foothills of the haute Razes we stopped to take lunch in Rennes-les-Bains in the 'Place de la Deux Rennes'. Miss Scarlett and Karim ordered the vegetarian choice, the Boudet Burger, which seemed perfectly appropriate while I plumped for the Pizza Reine in honour of the queen of the Zone — or rather the two queens — the 'deux Reine' — the 'black mother' and the 'white lady' who preside over this time warped neck of the woods, over the white and black squares of the devil's chessboard across whose face we find ourselves shifted time and time again like counters.
As above : Karim at work on the devil's chessboard So below: Uranie - the sorceror of the River of Colours both photos by Gina Varella. Taking the back road across the sacred valley to the Rennes plateau we paused at Lavaldieu to inspect the premises and firm up our reservations for later in the shoot before continuing to Uranie's domain at the edge of the River of Colours. Uranie seemed excited by the possibilities presented by the coming shoot and was keen to discuss the precise bearings that would need to be flown in the microlight to chart the Byzantine geographic alignments that make up the so-called 'Rennes pentagram'.
Gusts of wind rippled ominously through the long grass covering the shrines and marker stones surrounding Uranie's property and the afternoon light took on a curious, golden hue as Karim and myself walked through the tracking shot I had in mind for the film's closing sequence, finding a good spot for a jib up when we finally commit this to camera on the afternoon of the 27 th. At one point we noticed Fabrice gazing oddly at a green, plastic snake intertwined with the various bits and bobs in one of Uranie's alfresco 'installations'.
A storm had risen once again by the time we returned to Montsegur, making further attempts at time-lapse work impracticable. We rendezvoused with our archaeologist friend Fabrice Chambon, at the 'Smoking Potato' and convened a meeting under the storm lashed awning on the back patio. Wednesday June 13 — Montsegur. Roune as he slid a needle into my gum, doping me up for a double root canal procedure. While this may not have been the most convenient time for minor surgery it was the only appointment I could get and having waited almost a year for treatment it made sense to go ahead with the procedure rather than attempt to reschedule.
And painful it was! A small ' blood sacrifice ' Karim suggested, for the greater good of the shoot. I spent most of the rest of the afternoon on tranquillizers, sleeping off the procedure while Karim and Fabrice drove to Toulouse to pick up the equipment and rendezvous with Corrine the production manager, and Dave the camera assistant. As fate would have it Karim also shed a little symbolic blood for the production when he tripped over a loose cobblestone in Toulouse and bruised his hand. Hopefully after this the way forward will be a little easier.
Certainly none of the interviewee's can be as painful to deal with as the root canal procedure. Shrugging off the effects of the tranquillizers, I began to prepare my questions for tomorrow. Thursday June 14 — Montsegur. The first day of principal photography gets off to an ominous start when Jean Michel, the mayor of Montsegur abruptly reverses his decision, refusing to appear on camera and telling us that he cannot authorize us to shoot in the local church without permission from the bishop in charge of the region.
Corinne sets about tracking down the bishop while the rest of us drive up to the Taulet to get some general views of the castle.
Bettina Pelz: UMBRA cojobocile.tk – ARS PHOTONICA
We are still experimenting with the equipment available to us and much of what we shoot here and in the Reboule will almost certainly end up on the cutting room floor. The maze has not only been destroyed but all trace of its existence has been expunged. Even the stones it was built from seem to have been removed from the site. Who would do such a thing and why? The questions are still going around in my head when we meet up with Thierry Salles at the camp de cremat.
Thierry owns the land on which the labyrinth once stood and is as perplexed as us by its destruction. Thierry is a true Montsegurien, a direct descendent of Imbert de Salles the castle garrison's sergeant at arms at the time of the siege and talks simply and directly to our camera about his supernatural experiences on the mountain, relating an account of a time slip that took place when he was a teenager. As the sun settles lower over the Montagne de la Frau Occitan for 'Mountain of Fear' Thierry raises his guitar and plays a moving, heartfelt rendition of 'La Boier', a haunting thirteenth century troubadour song whose words mask a cryptic double meaning.
The scenes with Thierry set the tone for the work ahead and will in all likelihood make the final cut. Relieved that we have something in the can after all the crew retires to the 'Smoking Potato'. While they bid farewell to Francoise and welcome Nicolas our new soundman to the team Miss Scarlett and myself go in search of a bee gun to smoke out the church tomorrow. Miss Scarlett too has shed a little ritual blood for the cause having stepped on a thorn during the first set-up we shot in the Taulet that went all the way through the sole of her shoe and skewered her heel.
Although she is walking with a pronounced limp she is at least still mobile. Morale remains high. Friday June 15 — Montsegur. The first interview of the day doesn't start out too promisingly. Our contact, Yves M. Although slightly frustrating it's understandable as it's impossible to predict how anything that is said on record will be viewed by the outside world who tend to be more than a little sceptical about such matters. Besides, Yves has to live here.
It is a problem we know we will come up against again and again on this project. Yves claims that the GRAME forced him to sign a gag order after working on the site and is concerned by the possibility of legal reprisals if he goes on record about what they found there. It is difficult to understand why the GRAME would want to deliberately cover up certain aspects of their work on the mountain, especially since none of those involved have ever submitted a paper on the subject.
What do the members of the GRAME stand to benefit by this obsessive secrecy and why do they have a vested interest in propagating the idea that certain areas of the castle, notably the tower room where the celebrated 'solar phenomena' take place, were constructed more recently than they may in all probability have been? Yves seems to fear reprisal not only from the local authorities but from a higher authority, from the mountain itself.
He implies that there has been a deliberate move to obliterate all trace of the past and that to talk about it openly would only run the risk of speeding that process.
In the end I have to respect his wishes but cannot help feel the interview is a lost opportunity. On our return to the village we are mortified to hear from the bishop that the mayor of Montsegur has already briefed him that we should on no account be allowed to photograph the church or its contents. The sense that an official cover up is afoot is growing stronger by the hour but with Fabrice already back in Paris there is little we can do.
Once again I find myself wishing I had a more fluent command of French. We have photographed its interior dozens of times before using stills cameras but something about the idea of committing this imagery to film has the community leaders running scared. We manage to salvage something from the day by shooting Raghnhild and Anna-Mie working with their loom and spinning wheel.
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