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** This is an archived, static copy of the Casebook messages boards dating from 1998 to 2003. These threads cannot be replied to here. If you want to participate in our current forums please go to https://forum.casebook.org **
Archive through December 04, 2000
Casebook Message Boards: General Discussion: General Topics:
A Bit of Whimsy -- If there was a Time Machine . . .:
Archive through December 04, 2000
Author: Warwick Parminter
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 11:30 am |        | It's only Thursday! what are all you smart Alec's doing at home posting? You should be leaving the boards to us retired folk in the afternoon. People like me and maybe Graham? You ain't fooling me Gray with your talk of Guns and RosesJ, most know Jack was a butcher. It was getting close to Christmas, and he was trying for some choice cuts, you can tell that by the window display he left, and rummaged through at Millers Court.
God this is bad taste!! but keepJ |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 11:57 am | | Dear Graham,
You wrote:
'Rick's mention of mind altering substances could, I feel certain, point to a definite solution. Is it not obvious? Everyone involved in the Ripper case was experimenting with LSD, and everything was one big mass hallucination. No one was murdered, and there was thus no investigation. The reason Jack seemed able to 'just disappear into thin air' is because he did - and in fact he was only thin air to start with.'
Now, my dad never smoked in his life, neither Woodbines nor wacky baccy. His thoughts on users of LSD would be unprintable, even though his worst ever swear words in my presence were 'damn and blast'. But - and it's a huge BUT - as my pal Norma Sarse would confirm - my old dad must have known a thing or two about your solution. One of his favourite rhymes he would recite to me, while putting yet another stamp in his album, gives the game away:
"The other day upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
I wish that man would go away."
I feel sure this poignant piece of poetry has come down as a family tradition from an 'unfortunate' in 1888 Whitechapel, who was fortunate to slip through our invisible - nay, non-existent - fiend's fingers to tell her tale.
If we could just set this to music written for Izzy Stradlin's guitar, we might just be getting somewhere - or maybe not.
Love,
Caz |
Author: LeatherApron
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 12:50 pm | | So, I'm doing this research about Henry Ford and discover that upon his death he had on his person a key, two cheap imitation gold rings, and a gold watch with the inscription "I am Jack" on the back. Deciding to dig deeper I learned that Ford's diary never mentioned where he had received the watch, but noted that quite a few pages had been ripped out. Whilst bellied up to the bar one night, a man approached me and stated that his family had in their possession for several generations a certain number of pages alleged to have come from Ford's diary. Upon having the pages in my possession, I was astonished to learn that they revealed a connexion that hitherto no one had ever known existed.
Apparently, the success of Ford's Model T had initially been completely thwarted by a group of young upstarts from the east end of London. The 2 lads were twins who had been born in 1889 to a prostitute named Mary Jane Kelly and fathered by a Polish Jew. The father took the boys away to live with him at the behest of Ms. Kelly. The boys were ingenius little buggers who fancied this grand new mechanical marvel the French had invented, the automobile. By the tender ages of 20 and with the help of some wealthy industrials living in London, they had created their 5th version of the motorcar called OVVG Model 5 (OVVG coming from Oy Vey Ve Go). Their revolutionary breakthroughs in aluminium refining and the use of aluminium in place of cast iron to construct automobiles swept the international scene like a tidal wave as everyone in the world wanted the model 5 with its great gas mileage (better than 10 times the miles per gallon of Ford's Model T), sleek design, and low price.
After closing operations in 1913, Ford swore with vitriolic fervor that he would see the brothers pay. It wasn't until 30 years later that he was able to make good on his promise. With the help of scientists and engineers who had dreams of avarice, he was able to create a temporal displacement device or time machine. (His accomplices all died of mysterious causes afterward) Just like THE TERMINATOR returning to kill Sarah Conner before she could conceive, Ford went to Whitechapel in 1888 and searched for a prostitute named Mary Kelly before she could bear her two sons. Evidently, he had to make several trips back in time as once he'd returned to the future, he discovered he'd killed the wrong Mary Kelly because the damn whores had lied.
He left his mark on several occasions. The two brothers last name was Juive as their father had adopted the French word for Jewish, and after the murder of Cath Eddowes, mere seconds before time traveling back to the future, he scrawled his infamous graffito on a wall in Goulston St. "The Juives Are The Men that Will Not be Blamed for Nothing". When he finally found the correct woman, Mary Jane Kelly, and killed her in her home in Dorset Street, he wrote the initials F.M.C. on the wall for Ford Motor Company.
These definitely ascertained facts also explain why Ford published his own newspaper The Dearborn Independent which is replete with anti-Jewish articles. He also had the grand idea after hearing of Springheels Jack, to scare the prossies off the streets for the sole purpose of keeping them from their regular nightly sexual connexions by anonymously sending a letter and postcard to the Central News Agency (whom he knew would profilerate to all the major newspapers) and thus made the public believe there was a faceless Jack in their midst who was "down on whores". Not to mention the items found on his person upon his death; the key belonging to MJK's lodgings and rings to Cath Eddowes.
Okay, so now you all have gotten me mixed up in this imaginary prattle. Graham, Grailfinder, Caz, Rick... who's got the pipe? I need another hit.
Jack |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 12:57 pm | | Hi Caz, Rick, dudes
What's this about retired, Rick? Is my age starting to show? I really will have to make more effort at being kewl, 'in' and trendy. Umm...man. No, the reason for my being able to hurl around frivolous twaddle on this (and indeed every) fine Thursday is because I work at my PC. Mind you, the time for a pipe and slippers probably isn't too far off. But Jack as a butcher? Well, it's possible, but surely he'd have taken his victims to his home before killing them, that way he'd have had his pick of prime cuts to sell in the shop on Monday morning.
Caz, I remember my nan reciting that self same little verse to me when I was but a mere spratling. It always puzzle me, and I used to question her endlessly about how anyone could see someone who wasn't there. Little did I know that my seemingly very straight and sober grandmother was an acid head. Now I think about it, she did used to rattle on about beatniks rather a lot, and she taught me to read from Cat In The Hat books, too, which probably says something. The idea of setting the rhyme to a bit of Stradlin axe mastery is very interesting, but the last time I heard anything of him Izzy was in rehab (again) and had vowed to quit rock 'n' roll before the lifestyle (or Axl Rose) killed him. Maybe we could put the verse in Diana's time machine, whizz it back to 1967, and get Hendrix to do something with it.
BTW, I wonder if Norma Sarse is in any way related to my ol' mate Ivan E Normusson, the well known Norwegian mountaineer?
Graham |
Author: Grailfinder
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 01:18 pm | | LeatherApron
Glad to have you on board the good ship "Dwibble"
Please feel free to post as many idiotic and colorful theories as you wish,
"Just as long as they are Black"! |
Author: Grailfinder
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 02:56 pm | | Jack the Junkie!
Here at last is the truth about Jack and his reasons for killing the 5 women back in 1888;
Jack of course, was not his real name, it was Neil, the long haired hippy from the "Young Ones"
I have it on good authority that he had nicked Vivians yellow ford anglia on the advice of Mike who, "had a mate of a mate who knew this geezer" that could convert the old rust bucket into a De,Lorean, which would enable him to travel back in time and score some Hash at 1888 prices,
"Student grants don't go far do they?"
So on arrival in Whitechapel, he walked the streets asking for "Mary Jayne" (Rhyming slang for Marijuana).
Now his first contact was Polly Nichols, who, after taking his money, told him to meet her later that night in Bucks Row, however she got pissed and spent Neals money on a new Bonnet.
When she realized what she had done, she slapped herself about a bit, causing a few bruises to appear on her face, with the intention of telling the hippy that she had been mugged and who knows? the silly boy might give her some more to try again?.
However, Neil wasn't having any of it and having had enough of being ripped off by just about everybody he knew, he lost his rag and! well we all know the details of her fate, so I wont waste our time with the smaller points to this story.
His second attempt Annie Chapmap, was no better, when he arrived at the drug den she operated from, he was told that the hash market had dried up and all she had to offer him were a couple of E's wrapped up in an old envelope, again the now far from mellow Hippy was enraged, and in a purple haze, attacked the poor cow and again went in search of his vice.
Stride, tried to palm him off with breath fresheners, with the inevitable results and Cathy Eddowes tried a similar trick using a few dried up hops that she had in her pocket from a recent trip to the country.
This then just leaves Mary Kelly, who took Neil back to her hovel and told him to wait for her return, she was, she told him, going to have a party and would go and score some gear and return with it and a few girlfriends for some fun, but on her return with half a dozen mates to back her up, Neil was told to piss off as the house was full and there was no Womb.
By now Neil was a time bomb waiting to go off, he stood opposite Millers Ct for 2 hours, waiting for the party to finish, and finally when Kelly was left alone he returned and took his revenge on the "Heartless" bitch.
I thank you! |
Author: Simon Owen
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 03:05 pm | | | I like the theory it was Slash. I mean , why IS he called Slash man ? |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 04:58 pm | | Poor old Neil, he always seems to get blamed for everything. However, some time ago I learned of the existence of a pamphlet published by a young lady named Floella Benjamin, titled: The East End Murderer - I Knew Him. Many doubted that this document was anything more than yet another myth to lump in with all the others. Not so. After years of searching, and at no small expense to myself, I have finally secured the only copy of this fabled work. Finally the Ripperologists can sleep easy in the knowledge that Jack the Ripper is at last unmasked.
From what I understand, this psychotic fiend was assisted during his murderous spree in Whitechapel by fellow maniac and oddly-patterned-pullover-wearer Brian Cant, long believed to have been responsible for the 'through the round window' outrage in Leamington Spa. And the name of this vile butcher of impoverished unfortunates: Big Ted. Yes, that soppy looking old bear that used to sit with Jemima and Humpty, an innocuous smile upon his furry features. To millions of kiddy winkies he was nothing more than a stuffed toy who appeared every afternoon at around four o'clock in the afternoons on BBC1. But lurking beneath that benign exterior was a mind filled with foam pieces and thoughts of bloody murder. Respected Beeb go anywhere, do anything reporter Kate Adie said last night, 'I'm not really surprised to hear that Big Ted is in fact Jack the Ripper. Manys the time I've seen him and Cant behaving furtively in the canteen. One evening when I had to stay behind to finish a spot of editing work, I caught Ted viciously hacking a leg of lamb to pieces. At the time I thought he was simply hungry, but now I know the truth - he was practising his evisceration skills. To judge from the photos of Mary Jane, that practise seems to have paid off.'
In her pamphlet, Benjamin tells the harrowing story of her days spent dancing round an old piano with Ted in her arms as an assortment of imbeciles played silly tunes. As she recalls: 'I knew there was something strange about Big Ted. One day, just after the cameras had stopped rolling, he looked straight into my eyes and said "Hmmm, Floella, have you never fancied eating a raw kidney before?" It was the way he said it, as if he'd actually done such a thing himself in the past.' And she goes on to say: 'Ted was also fond of composing his own lyrics to go with well known nursery rhymes.
Mary Kelly sliced on her bed,
Mary Kelly patently dead,
Old Dr Phillips and all of his men,
Couldn't put Mary together again.'
I know this news will come as a great shock to all of you who, like me, innocently enjoyed the cheerful insanity of Playschool. To think that when the lights dimmed and cameramen went home, Big Ted snuck out of the studio, took to the streets of the East End, and prowled eagerly until he found suitable victims. No one suspected him because, as Inspector Abberline noted, 'BT is just a stuffed toy. Moreover he's a children's entertainer, and has done a wonderful job of bring up his son, Little Ted, who is well known locally for his acts of charity. The very notion that Ted could have been the killer simply never entered our heads.'
But the killer he was, madness burning in his plastic button eyes, sharp knife cunningly hidden in that big toy box in the corner. Having to break this news saddens me greatly, but at least now we know for certain just who Jack the Ripper was.
Indeed we do. |
Author: stephen stanley
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 05:33 pm | | Thank God this theme wasn't going when I first discovered this site...............
Steve S |
Author: Diana
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 06:22 pm | | | Oh what a brat my brainchild has turned out to be! |
Author: Grailfinder
Thursday, 30 November 2000 - 07:00 pm | | OH! come now Diana
I have noticed you keep popping your head into the room, and I suspect you are as proud of your baby and enjoying the crap as much as anyone?
Your Time machine has many interesting uses and can be a boon in our research for facts on the case, for eg;
Having just returned from 1888, I can disclose to all members that local gossip in the Dorset St area claims that Cathy Eddowes did not in fact die at the hands of the Ripper! But passed away due to a sexual transmitted decease, when I enquired about this to group of women sitting in the kitchen of crossingham's doss house, and asked if the STD in question was the dreaded syphilis?
the women all turned and looking towards me shouted in unison...
"NO GONNA EAR"
oh! hang my head in shame... |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 05:25 am | | You're all barking mad of course - the very idea that Jack could have been an ultra famous but gormless and spaced-out tv character, rich and famous pioneer in the motor car industry, or a hugely successful furry children's entertainer is no more than utterly wild and futile speculation. The real ripper is much more likely to have been a trio of complete nonentities. It just so happens that I found what I was looking for quite by chance when I took a trip (ahem, back in time) last night - not so much The Three Stooges, The Three Musketeers or Three Men in a Cattle Boat, but more butcher, baker and candlestick-maker.
The first, Swiney Trotter the Cat's Meat Man (Delboy's great great grandad incidentally) was more pie-n-ear merchant than pioneer motorman, with his nise shiny knif, sturdy barrow and handy butcher's shop for the three bloody killers to slink back to, while holding onto their prize organs.
The second, Ivana the Bread Man (so called, not for his baking skills, but because he was the trio's treasurer, for trinkets taken from their victims, as in "I vana the bread, Man"), was a lowly, but 6ft Russian tv - as in transvestite - character, who got the victims' sympathy by asking their advice, in appealing broken English, on how to get rid of unsightly facial whiskers and minimise size 12 plates. (Note to the Americans from Swiney Trotter: plates of meat = feet, preferably human)
The third and last, and by all means the least, was one, Edward the Turd aka Peter File, a failed children's street entertainer and purveyor of Victorian marital aids (this is where his candlesticks come in), who had an unfortunate tendency to approach unfortunates from behind, dressed in a daft bear costume, one huge furry paw on their shoulders being enough to cause a deep swoon.
And there you have it: Ivana the Bearded Lady, with his ingratiating girly talk, Big Ted with his persuasive paws, and Swiney Trotter with his cat's meat-cutting skills - all under the very noses of the coppers, an everday sight in 1888 London. They didn't stand a chance.
Apologies for spoiling everyone's weekend by ending the mystery this way. I shall be picking up my prize tomorrow night at the Xmas Smoke and Stagger bash. That's if I survive the trip.
Love,
Caz
PS Dear Graham, Norma sends cheery greetings to Ivan, at least I hope she does, my Norwegian isn't great.
Hendrix would be good, but his 'Hey Joe' smacks of bias. Ditto Sir Jim Morrison, although 'Light My Fire' would fit with any arson about. |
Author: Justin Rose
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 08:32 am | | Maybe the Ripper was James Brown the godfather of soul. Notice there was a witness named james brown what if there one in the same. He may have gone back in time got up and did his thing, got on the good foot, etc. Or I agree with the Guns and Roses theory, "Nothing lastes forever even cold november rain" was it rainging when Kelly was murdered? There could be another clue in Civil War " Feeds the rich while it beries the poor." The poor being Whitechapel while the rich are the Royals. Maybe it was both James Brown and Axl? I got to go start writing my book now!
Bye Dudes!
J.D. |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 09:30 am | | Hi All,
I definitely think James Brown should be considered - after all, one should never forget that he cut a record called Say It Loud (I'm Jack and I'm Proud) some years back.
If we're looking for a trio, I can think of several who fit the bill. The Three Degrees. Charlton, Best & Law. Crosby, Stills & Nash (before Young joined them). And of course the Three Tenors - all three of whom are 'foreign looking', and indeed foreign, although I don't recall any of the witnesses reporting to have seen a corpulent bearded Italian in a suit in the immediate vicinity of the crimes. And no one should ever rule out Zippy, George and Bungle of Rainbow infamy. If I had to choose a threesome, though, it would be the leading suspects in the Sticky Backed Plastic Suffocation murder case John Noakes, Peter Purves and Valerie Singleton (but less of my depraved fantasies).
In fact, I'm now working on a new lead. It has come to my attention that those well known Satanists Sir Cliff Richard and Hank Marvin are both unable to give a credible account of their movements on the nights in question between August and Novemeber 1888 (this was in the days when the Drifters were Harry Webb's backing band, before he and they changed their names). Remember Cliff's chilling 'Devil Woman'? I think the woman he's referring to is Mary Jane Kelly. He knew that a few years hence he would be a world famous mega star, and if anyone found out about his dalliances with East End whores his chances of sainthood would be rather slim. The solution: take to the streets and, with the assistance of Hank, and murder those with whom he'd dallied. Drinking the blood of their human sacrifices is no doubt what has kept Cliff and Hank looking so young. That and endless games of tennis with Sue Barking and Martina Nevaradalegova.
Ivan says: 'Galriach ton orr, min bror.' Roughly translated that means: 'Get a bong bubbling in readiness for me, my dear, and I'll see you at the Smoke & Staggerathon. My reindeer are dancing on misty ice caps. Six pennyworth of acid drops to you all.' |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 09:42 am | | I think Justin makes a good point.
Could we be talking Sex Machine, rather than Time Machine here? Oh God, more time travelling, back to my first disco at the local tennis club in 1968, getting on down to James, the godfather of bodice ripping!
Didn't he do 'Papa's Got a Brand New Bag' too?
Maybe he found his great grandpappy's black medical bag full of incriminating ripperabilia, got on down in his Sex Machine to 1888, planning to seek out and castrate the bugger, then, realising he would never get conceived and therefore deprive a 1960s teenager of her soul, he felt compelled to give it up and do his own thang instead, leaving his crusty old ancestor to his classic tracks...
Or was he just singing about his old man's latest fancy bit?
Graham, if Ivan really is coming to the S & S, I'll get Norma Sarse in gear for it, she can join me in dressing up as a Victorian 'unfortunate' too!
Love,
Caz |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 11:40 am | | | Yes, I fear Ivan is going to carry out his threat and turn up at the Xmas Smoke and Stagger do. Rumour has it that he'll be taking his infamous medallion-loving friends the two Hughs, Jarse and G Rection, with him as well, so take care who you dance with. |
Author: LeatherApron
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 12:49 pm | | Justin and Caz,
I think you might be on to something with James Brown. That "Papa got a brand new bag" quote is extremely informative.
The threesome idea has led me to fill in the 3rd conspirator in this bloody tic-tac-toe -- Dave Mustaine from Megadeth. Something has always bothered me from the time I heard him sing, "Feeling claustrophobic like the walls are closing in, Blood stains on my hand and I don't know where I've been." This undoubtedly connects the man with the dastardly duo of Slash and James Brown.
Graham,
I'm on to you know laddy. You failed to consider the linguistic capabilities of your colleagues and have thus given yourself away. "Galriach ton orr, min bror." actually translates to "I'm Saucy Jack and you silly twits will only realize this when my shiny knif slices your throats and you lay gagging on your own blood." Quite clever of you to cast suspicions on sundry individuals to throw us off the track, but it's over. Confess! Bring out the glowing pins and I'll make him talk! From your previous posts I have determined your I.Q.; only a person of such genius could build a time machine based upon the scanty details in H.G. Wells book! Why did you do it?
I am, Madams and Sirs, your obedient servant,
Jack
P.S. Member 277 of the Smoke and Stagger Club sincerely misses not being able to drink a pint with 2 characters such as yourselves. Cheers! |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 01:27 pm | | Well, if Ivan E. Normusson is The Saucy Number One, Hugh Jarse being his number two, with Hugh G. Rection bringing up the rear, I'll certainly have to take care who I shimmy with tomorrow night! I guess I'll need Norma to point out Ivan The Terrible to me, because after the first few Xmas pints, all the men at the City Darts will sound like they're speaking in Norwegian, and after a few vodkas with Red Bull, I might just not give a toss any more. Ole!
I love this thread - it's a cracker!
Love,
Caz
Hey Jack, Cheers! We'll raise a few glasses to you mate, and to all absent fiends - or should I say friends - with a silent aaah... |
Author: Grailfinder
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 03:53 pm | | Hi all;
I have, with baited breath, been following your mad ramblings, hoping that clues that I have dropped into my own postings, would bring forth a spark of reality into your muddled minds, and although a few of you have come close to the object of our search, ie; to put a name to the dastard who committed the worlds worst murders in history, I am afraid to say you have missed the mark by miles. Graham came so close with his talk on Big Ted and Floella Benjamin, but failed to see the link between these so called fluffy toys and kids telly heroes.
So it would seem it has been left to me, the finder of our Grail, to put you out of your misery and reveal to you all at last, the true identity of the master of the Knife.
The name of this fiend is none other than the original time traveler himself, Mr Ben.
It was he, and the little old shopkeeper in the funny hat that committed these evil crimes, due to Mary Kelly finding out about there antiques scam.
You see my friends, these two had been popping back in time and nicking tables and chairs before they got damaged by time and wear, and selling them off in there little shop at prices that only mint condition items can fetch.
Abberline had got wind of this scam, a few years after the Whitechapel murders and indeed, had staked out a property in cleveland street, he actually sat and watched the buggers loading up a van with there chosen booty, chairs, tables and other choice items, but failed to catch the pair, due to the van and its contents disappearing into thin air as it rounded the corner at the end of the street.
But of course I don't expect you to take my word for it, you need proof right? Ok! here goes.
Mr Ben was not the kind bowler hatted gentleman that he portrayed himself to be, both he and the little old man were Master Masons, not just Masters but Mega Masters of the 69th and a half degree.
They were both steeped in Masonic lore and traced there lodge's roots right back to the Ancient Egyptian Tutnutter Lodge.
Now when Mary Kelly got wind of their scam, Benn decided to put an end to her blackmail and brought fourth the series of events that we all know only too well.
And so, sticking to the 13th rule of the cosmic joker, he played out his funny little games, leaving strange and silly clues along the way.
Some of these clues and anomalies have been spotted by the Ripper hunters over the years, but they have all failed to spot the most obvious one?
He left his name for all to see, right there in Kellys room, in plain view, but not spelt in English, Oh no! he was to cunning and devious a man to be so normal and boring as that, he spelt his name in Hieroglyphs. "but don't take my word for it, see for yourself"
The first clue, and indeed the first letter of his name is B , and for the Hieroglyph for this he mutilated Kellys leg, The next letter E , he used her arm, bent at the elbow and placed over her chest, and the final letter N ? the Hieroglyph for this is a wavy line, he drew this design in plain view on the wall, this has been mistaken for an M by some authors but is in fact an image of water.
Below you will find these images as they look when joined together.
And there my friends, we have it! the hunt is over, the villain exposed, and the crime of the century solved.
Yours The GRAILFINDER
P.S
Please note, the above pics and translations are not my work, should you think that they are bogus, then please visit the following website;
http://157.182.12.132/omdp/Jami/htm/hierogly.htm/TUT-FAQ1
|
Author: Graham Sheehan
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 04:22 pm | | OK, OK - Jack has seen through my cunning plot to throw you all off the scent. No more messing about; the time has come to reveal the true identity of Jack the Ripper.
It has been suggested that a trio was involved - and this is indeed true. These three hideous fiends had already spent many years terrorizing the populace at large with their dazzling white teeth, flagrantly displayed chest hair and really tight trousers (thought to be responsible for their ability to hit seemingly impossible high notes). Who could these subhumans, these slayers of unfortunates, these vile wretches, these purveyors of funky disco tunes be? Of course - I think Ripperologists have known the answer all along. That's right, folks, the outrages perpetrated in the East End of London during the Autumn of Terror were committed by none other than the Bee Gees.
Many have wondered why English born lads who grew up in Australia titled their first major hit 'Massachussets'. The reason is simple. Originally the song was called Whitechapel Slums. 'I am going back to Whitechapel Slums, Something's telling me to kill more whores.' However, record company bosses, keen that the money spinning group should remain at liberty to continue their run of huge hits meant that the lyrics were altered so no suspicion fell upon those seemingly oh-so-nice Gibb brothers. Despite this, the boys still managed to drop hints to their true indentity. 'You can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk.' No time to talk - only to whip out a very sharp knife and set to work. 'It's tragedy, When you lose control and can't go on.' This track was no doubt written when the Gibbs were at a particularly low ebb, probably during October '88 when the streets were teeming with bloomin' rozzers. And of course there is no doubt whatsoever that the major smash they wrote for Diana Ross, Chain Reaction, was an overt reference to the addictiveness of murdering drabs. Once they'd sent Mary Ann Nicols to meet her maker, there was no turning back. A chain reaction had indeed been set in motion. 'Gotta Get A Message To You' is obvious - this song was composed around the time they decided to start sending taunting letters to the Central News Agency. 'Jive Talking' was originally called 'Knife Talking' and speaks for itself. 'How Deep Is Your Love?' Only one way to find out, and that was to open their victims up with a razor sharp weapon and see for themselves.
I know this news will come as a bombshell to many of you, those who eagerly donned white suits and black shirts, did the ol' Travolta bit down the local disco (even if you couldn't quite work out why none of the babes flocked to you in the same way, despite the fact that you'd drenched yourself in Old Spice and had your shirt open almost to the waist, medallion glinting under the flashing strobes). Little did you know the true meaning behind 'Night Fever' and 'Too Much Heaven'. 'Stayin' Alive' was something Long Liz and co were having a very hard job doing.
So the next time you see the Bee Gees displaying all that expensive dental work at whichever ceremony they're appearing on to collect lifetime achievement awards, just remember what they really are: EVIL. Read of the appalling crimes attributed to Jack the Ripper and know that these men were responsible. Until now, only two people knew the truth about the Bee Gees: myself and Clive Anderson. Remember how the Gibbs stormed out in the middle of an interview with Clive a few years back? Well, that's because he started asking them 'loaded' questions. If you ever get the chance to watch the interview again, do so. Note the way Clive, a qualified barrister and thus used to dealing with murderers and such, drops little hints here and there. Just as he was on the verge of finally unmasking them for what they are, they scuttled out of the studio quickly. Having been sent half a kidne in the mail, Anderson decided to back off. I, on the other hand, would rather like to receive the other half (if they haven't eaten it) in amongst the bills and circulars, and thus I have no qualms about letting the world know everything.
Is it just me or are Cadbury's Creme Eggs getting smaller as the years pass? |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Friday, 01 December 2000 - 07:02 pm | | Yes, Graham, indeed they are, but I'm sorry to hear you are too.
Nighty night (fever night fever-er)
Love,
Caz |
Author: Harry Mann
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 05:35 am | | There were in fact two Australians who invented time machines,one for each,then went forward in time to destroy all other inventions of such like.After returning and joining the Australian Cloak and dagger club,it was decided one of them would go back in time to capture the ripper.On return the killer would be put on trial in the Sydney opera house.
The operation was carried out successfuly,but took a little time,and the other getting anxious decided to go back and find out why it was taking so long.
Unfortunately they both took off at exactly the same time,one going forward in time ,and one ging backwards.As a consequence,they crashed head on during the battle of the Somme.Both craft were damaged beyond repair,though the three occupants survived.Sadly for them,they were captured by the Germans,convicted as spies,and shot.
The only momentos retained by the person that captured them, was a long sharp bladed knife and a horseshoe tiepin.Their last resting place is not known.
The only other recorded information is that when aprehended,the man in the long dark coat wearing a wideawake hat,and from whom the knife and tiepin were taken vehemently denied that he was a Jew. |
Author: Grailfinder
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 06:32 am | | Yeh right!..
And I suppose they all got invited to a BARBI? |
Author: Warwick Parminter
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 07:04 am | | Graham, I think you've missed a couple of characters who could stand a bit of scrutiny. "THE TWO RONNIES" could be reincarnations of Andersen and Macnaugten. If you have a video tape of certain shows of theirs, take note of the look of utter horror on their faces when the---Phantom Raspberry Blower strikes,---especially when they are at the receiving end!. This bit of info doesn't say who the villian could have been, but it might give you some leads. MARS BARS are certainly smaller, you could be right about the CREME EGGS, I sympathise with you old boy.
Rick |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 08:47 am | | Of course, Mr Ben. Very shady character, regular time traveller. Certainly a possibility. An Australian is also possible. Remember what Lawende said about seeing a dude with shoulder length blonde hair, driving a colourfully painted VeeDub camper van packed full of surfboards and tinnies? Could be on to something there.
Now, the Two Ronnies. Definite signs of crazed lusting madness with that pair. Mr Barker, round, jolly and friendly looking - almost like a traditional butcher. And Mr Corbett, so small he could pass as a child when stalking the streets in search of victims, and no one would ever suspect a kid.
But if we're looking for a good suspect among British comedians then surely Ken Dodd must be top of the list. Born in Liverpool, remember, from which city one of the possibly genuine Ripper letters was posted. Even if he isn't Jack, I think Dodd is more than capable of forging a diary. He did it with his tax returns for years and got away with it.
That said, there are no cases on record of funny people committing murders (which, of course, means Dodd could well be the killer). Royalty on the other hand have always tended to think nothing of resorting to murder when the need arises. We know the Duke of Clarence is out of the frame - but what about the Queen Mum? Haven't you ever wondered what she keeps in that handbag? Not an assortment of sharp knives by any chance. She'd certainly be considered above suspicion. Imagine her slowly making her way through the Whitechapel slums, now and then accepting a bunch of flowers from a ragged urchin, everyone's attention distracted as they say to each other: 'Isn't she marvellous for her age?' Quick as flash, she darts into a dark alley, finds a victim, rip, slash, tear, and back to the adoring throng before anyone even notices she'd gone. Fresh innards stashed in her handbag, one butchered unfortunate just waiting to be found. And when Abberline makes a beeline for little semi just off Aldgate High Street, she has the perfect alibi. 'I couldn't possibly be the murderer, Inspector - I was attending to offical duties at the time Kate Eddowes was killed.' Oh yes, she may look like a frail old lady - but I feel certain that behind the pleasant smile and pale blue eyes burns a hunger - a raging obsession to kill, kill, kill.
Why is it, I wonder, that cashew nuts are so ruddy expensive? |
Author: Grailfinder
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 10:50 am | | Hi Graham;
I also suspected the Queen Mum, but on further investigation it would appear she has an alibi for the Eddowes murder, apparently she was at a rave in a field somewhere in Kent getting down to some Hip-hOP.
As to your theory about a fat butcher and young boy? I believe this was a case of mistaken identity, the real persons turned out to be Fred Elliot and his son Ashley on there way to a cross dressing convention,
"I SAY, CROSS DRESSING CONVENTION"
Now wagon wheels have defiantly got smaller. |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 11:40 am | | Hi, Grail
Yes, Fred Elliot has definite potential. Did you see the papers this morning? Poor old Fred got stabbed. I wondered if this might be a revenge attack by one of his victims' relatives. We know he taught Ashley everything he knows about the butchers trade, so maybe he used to take him out on his killing expeditions.
'Now look 'ere, our Ashley. See that wench over there, 'er wearin' t'jolly new bonnet, well I'm about to murder her in a particularly gruesome fashion. And don't you go blabbing to Audrey Roberts about what I get up to of an evenin', neither. Now, see, I wander oop nice and casual like, and say, "Why good evening, madam. Any chance of bit a of action, I say any chance of getting me leg over with thee? Here's a nice shiny sovereign." OK, so now I've won her over with me brash Northern charm, all I 'ave to do is get me 'ands round 'er neck like this...are you watching closely, our Ashley? How will you ever be able to take over t'role of Jack t'Ripper from me if you never pay attention? Now where was I? Oh right. Now, her eyes are bulging nicely - and notice 'ow she can't scream coz I've got me thumbs buried in her windpipe. OK. She's dead as ruddy dodo, I say there not a breath o' life left in 'er. So now it's time to get out me filletin' knife. Oh, there we go. I promised Mrs Postlethwaite from Rosamund Street a nice of offal for 'er little jack russell. I think this should do t'trick.'
'But Uncle Fred, cooting oop whores is dead wron-gah.'
'By 'eck, our Ashley, 'ave ya got no lead in yer pencil, I say are you a bit of an airy fairy nancy boy? No wonder your voice still hasn't broken. Roll oop yer sleeves, dig out 'er entrails and chuck 'em over 'er shoulder in a pseudo masonic manner. Can't 'ave the bobbies sniffin' round our fresh meats now, can we, so we need to create a diversion, I say we need to throw 'em of t'scent. Ashley? Ashley? Oh, booger me, he's passed right out cold. I dunno, ya just can't get t'staff these days. When I were a lad o' your age, Ashley, I were oop be three in t'mornin', eighteen hour day of solid 'ard graft, and only tuppence worth o' broken biscuits f' me supper. You ruddy young 'uns don't know how easy you've got it.'
Remember when Wagon Wheels used to come in shiny gold wrappers? And whatever happened to Treets? And Cabanas? |
Author: Grailfinder
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 12:21 pm | | Last I heard they were doing cabaret act on the Northern club scene, Him on the accordion while she belted out such classics as "The boy I love is up in the gallery" and a catchy little version of Franky goes to Hollywoods, "Relax"
although there was a rumour that she was having a fling with Coco the clown? and intending to set up together as a duet going by the name of Coco Cabana?
"Farleys baby Rusks"! only half the size they were when I were a nipper. |
Author: LeatherApron
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 12:49 pm | | Hey Graham, I was ROTFLMAO when I read your Fred an Ashley Elliot dialogue! Cheers!
J Heckuva birthday present for me.
Best regards to all,
Jack |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 01:43 pm | | Jack,
Many happy returns. 21 again, eh! Time to dust of the apron, get out the sharp knife and sally forth into the East End for a celebration beano.
Graham |
Author: Warwick Parminter
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 05:22 pm | | Hello Jack,
I think maybe I should be wishing you a Happy Birthday? If I should I do, but I don't know what's serious anymore, and how did they know and I didn't? am I missing something?. I'll show my ignorance a bit more now, I'm not into computer speak at all, so would you please tell me what this "&No74" means please, I've asked before but no one noticed.
All the best Rick |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 05:59 pm | | Rick,
On the website board I see a smiley face in place of &No74, whereas when I see the e-mail version of Jack's message it appears in text form. Must be code of some sort. EZ Boards has a similar system. :lol produces a laughing visage, for example. )kidne shows you the true face of Jack the Ripper, so I'm led to believe, although I haven't tried that one yet for fear that I'll see Fred Elliot appear.
Graham |
Author: Grailfinder
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 06:36 pm | | Graham;
Now imagine Fred Elliot in his cross dressing garb, his Knif dripping with blood and screaming "Come to Daddy" at you!
Now try and get to sleep tonight.
"Oh shite, I wish I hadn't given berth to that thought"
Imagination can be a two edged sword eh? |
Author: Grailfinder
Saturday, 02 December 2000 - 09:42 pm | | 
"Come to Daddy my little beauty, I say Come to Daddy" |
Author: David M. Radka
Sunday, 03 December 2000 - 12:20 am | | Nothing beats the more alliterated Caz--so glad to see her back. She can come along anytime.
David |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Sunday, 03 December 2000 - 03:17 am | | | You see! I was right! Fred Elliot really is Jack! Caught red knifed as he launches a deadly attack. Actually, that outfit rather suits him, I say he could walk down t'high street and no one would ever know he wasn't really a woman. |
Author: stephen borsbey
Sunday, 03 December 2000 - 04:40 pm | | yes, they have shrunk wagon wheels , they are more like WAGON HUB CAPS these days arent they......did you notice how few crisps went into walkers crisp bags when they had the find £20 in the bag offer?????
i will go now as im boring you!!!!!!bye. |
Author: Graham Sheehan
Sunday, 03 December 2000 - 04:54 pm | | | I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that there was a masonic conspiracy behind the distinctly stingy amount of crisps you get in a packet these days. Actually found a fiver in a bag of Walker's during one of their promotions a couple of years back, though. Mind you, by that time I'd bought about 7000 packets and put on about five stone. |
Author: Caroline Anne Morris
Monday, 04 December 2000 - 05:51 am | | My daughter noticed how Walkers Quavers used to be Smiths Quavers, when she was looking through old photos, while snacking on a minuscule packet of the former, and caught herself snacking on a larger packet of the latter, in one of the snaps of her as a nipper. But what distresses us both the most is the demise of Scampi n Lemon flavour Nik Naks (no jokes please), which savoury snack, by the gross, used to ward off my morning sickness and became one of Little Caz's firm favourites too. When I asked Deidre why you coudn't get 'em any more, she replied, "Your'e the hundredth customer to ask that question this week, and I keep telling 'em there's just no call for 'em any more. Now boogger off, your'e cramping my style, I'm trying to flootter me eyelashes at Dev and me glasses keep steaming oop."
Now, where were we? Oh yeah, thanks David, you're too kind. People usually say I'm either completely alliterate, or should be obliterated...
I still favour the Bee Gees as the ghastly trio wot dun the deed. I remember when Tony Blackbum was about to play yet another of their falsetto-voiced discs one foggy morning - "It's only words (a knife), and words (knives) are all I ne-eed, to take your heart away") - he got his own teeth in backwards and referred to the boys as the "old tart-chopping group" - surely all the inspiration they needed?
So we now know who to blame for all society's ills - and yes, it is a damned conspiracy - Tony Blackbum with his ill-chosen words, Chris Tarrant in the morning, and every bleedin' night too, with his would-be millionaires lining up to kill BBC's ratings, and the less said about Jonathan, "Everyone's Gone to the Moon" King, the better - except to say that his aunty taught me needlework at school, and I'll never forgive her for the agonies I suffered trying to stitch up that bloody apron. Quite ironic, if you think about it - her nephew and her sewing machine both being Singers, not to mention stitch-ups....
Love,
Caz |
Author: Grailfinder
Monday, 04 December 2000 - 10:41 am | | Hi all;
"Heres an interesting thought!"
In the M.J.Trow book "the many faces of Jack the Ripper" p108.
Trow tells us of a Board Game for children, sold in 1891. The game was called 'How To Catch Jack' and the basic idea was to choose a suspect, Druit,Barnet etc, and then weave a story and apply evidence to prove your suspects guilt, the point being, is that you can do this with all suspects, it all depends on how you read the evidence and how you relate that evidence to your audience.
Now what I find interesting, is that we all seem to have been playing a similar "Board Game"
The bullshit stories that we have been posting have, like the real suspect list, grown, or rather evolved from one mad idea to the next and with each new story a new suspect is born to fit in with the bullshit that came before it? "if that makes sense"?
For example, Half a dozen posts back, the Two Ronnies were put forward as the Murderers, however there description also fitted that of Fred and Ashley ie, A large bumbling oaf, and a small lad.
So we now have four people on an imaginary suspect list, all innocent, but there because of a resemblance to an eye witness description.
I can state that they are all innocent, because I have just returned from 1888, using the new improved 'Dianatron Time Carriage' and was lucky enough to take a photo (see below) of a very suspicious looking pair of misfits that fit our description, and so our suspect list must grow again, from two to six because of the way the evidence is put forward, whether that evidence is 'Prime Source' or total bollocks makes no difference, the results can be the same and is a lesson to all, how easy it is to build a case around a favored suspect.
"A Gold star to the first person to correctly name the location and the woman in the photo below" |
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