Attend the Fortean Times Unconvention (2)

After the previous day's shenanigans, I was back on the Sunday for more. And what better way to start than with a talking mongoose?

Gef the talking mongoose, to be precise, who reportedly terrorised a family's farmhouse in the Isle of Man in the 1930s. Gef seems to have been a stroppy little bugger, demanding food, making claims of having supernatural powers, swearing at people and making occasional threats. All this was related by Christopher Josiffe, who brought along his very own knitted replica Gef. I spot a possible merchandising opportunity here?

He concludes (unsurprisingly) that it was probably a hoax by the family daughter to try to frighten her father into moving back to the mainland. I'm sure Josiffe's right about that, but part of me likes the idea of Gef being out there somewhere, perhaps to return among us some day..

Next were Andy Roberts and Dave Clarke, who gave the quote of the day, "People usually associate us with UFO research, but we only do that to piss off the believers." They weren't talking about UFOs, but cursed stones. They brought along a "cursed" stone head, which is on the chair in the right hand side in the photo below (click to embiggen)

The stone supposedly brought a run of bad luck to the couple who previously owned it, but this has to be treated with scepticism because (a) the couple sold it to Roberts and Clarke, who experienced no misfortune as a result and (b) Roberts and Clarke found out that a local had carved and buried it in the 1970s for a practical joke.

Later on, the cursed head was found in the merchandising and cafe area, where it was promptly desecrated by various attendees.

If it's actually cursed, we're all in a lot of trouble.

Back in the arena, a distinct whiff of bullshit was starting to waft through the air. Lynn Picknett and Clive Prince were discussing the influence of hermeticism on the history of science.

Gee, do you think they might have a book to plug?

Picknett began with a slightly paranoid rant about how early scientists like Galileo and Newton were influenced by hermetic thought, and how historians of science could never possibly, possibly accept that this was the origins of science because they're all narrow-minded rationalists and if they told this to Richard Dawkins his head would probably explode or something.

Hang on a minute, it's always been well understood that early scientists believed in stuff like alchemy (which evolved into chemistry), astrology (ditto for astronomy) and Greek philosophy. Richard Dawkins certainly wouldn't like those worldviews, but he probably wouldn't deny that Newton et al believed in them. I was starting to feel quite angry at this point, which wasn't assuaged by the unintentional irony of Picknett declaring that Giordano Bruno had been "airbrushed from history" while pointing to a photo of his monument in Rome.

After Picknett's misreading of the history of science, it was time for Prince to misread quantum physics. He declared that concepts such as the Anthropic Principle demonstrate that modern science is now coming round to a view of the world that resembles hermeticism. In the Q&A session veteran fortean Ian Simmons (who, unlike Picknett and Prince, is an actual scientist) pointed out that quantum physics can only truly be expressed in maths, and hence any verbal description tends to be somewhat metaphorical. Prince's response was, "Yes, er...mumblemumble...anthropic principle...mumblemumble...staggering coincidences...mumble..."

Another questioner made a comment about the status of humans compared to earwigs, to which Prince replied, "Earwigs can't do quantum physics." Neither can you, Mr Prince.

Following that steaming pile of codswallop, there were two excellent talks on art history, with Ted Harrison and Gail-Nina Anderson discussing artistic depictions of the end of the world and Egyptian mummies respectively. Finally, UnCon concluded with a suitably eccentric but also deeply moving screening of the Nina Conti film Her Masters Voice.

The film describes Conti's grief at the death of the theatre maverick Ken Campbell, who became her lover and her mentor in ventriloquism. Conti travels to the Vent Haven convention in the USA to attempt to resolve not only her bereavement but also her feelings about ventriloquism, with the result that a lot of the dialogue is delivered through puppets. Along the way she makes some interesting psychological observations - it seems most ventriloquists are shy people, and tend to use the puppet to say and do things that they wouldn't necessarily do themselves, to the point that the puppet becomes an alter ego. I highly recommend the film, which left me intrigued about an art form that I previously hadn't cared much for.

All in all, a wonderfully quirky weekend. I'll be back next year.

Attend the Fortean Times UnConvention (1)

This task is a bit of a cheat, since I was going to do it anyway, but some things are too much fun not to blog about.

I've subscribed to the Fortean Times for 15 years, and having their magazine plop through my letterbox every month is like getting a regular visit from your favourite dotty auntie. It specialises in bizarre news stories - UFOs, ghosts, great eccentrics, monster sightings, great eccentrics...Not to declare these things as true, but also not to denounce them as silly superstitions. More a celebration of the fact that sometimes life is just plain weird.

Every year the FT has its UnConvention, and last weekend I got on a train to London, where I encountered theremins, transvestite Kate Bush tributes and talking animals.

On the Saturday, first up was Jon Ronson, talking about his book The Psychopath Test, which was something I suspect I'd have enjoyed more if I didn't work in mental health. I found myself thinking about the clinical issues rather than enjoying the laughs, which is probably the wrong approach to take. He commented on the oft-repeated claim that psychopaths don't just occupy prisons, but also the higher echelons of business, politics and the legal profession. Which would certainly explain some of the behaviour of our nation's elites.

Next was Brian Regal talking about the life and ultimately tragic death of Grover Krantz, a naturalist who became obsessed with finding the mythical Sasquatch. Regal suggested Krantz reminded him of the archetypal tale of the lonely scientist, burrowing away searching for the truth, alternately ignored or ridiculed by his peers, and on his deathbed receives the final vindication that he was right after all. According to Regal, Krantz's life was "almost like that."

After David Clarke relating a 19th Century news story of a woman reportedly scared to death by a ghost, and Jan Bondeson telling us about Rolf the talking dog...

...no, not that one...There was cryptozoologist Richard Freeman, describing his searches for mythical great apes in India and Sumatra. I've never been much interested by cryptozoology, which strikes me as a pursuit that involves trekking to the most godawful places on earth in order to look for animals that probably aren't there. Even so, I've generally found Freeman (and his yeti-like colleague Jonathan Downes) such engagingly likeable folk that I've been keen to listen to what they have to say. Even Penn and Teller's Bullshit show seemed strangely charmed by them. For once, Freeman's expeditions may actually be paying dividends. He's come up with increasing amounts of data that the orang-pendek in Sumatra may be an actual sub-species of orang-utan, rather than simply a myth. If he finds it, I suspect he may e-mail the first photo to Penn and Teller.

I took a quick trip to the merchandise area, where I heard Richard Freeman commenting that, "I'd rather eat dog shit wrapped in razor blades than vote Tory" while Jonathan Downes observed, "Diabetes isn't as much fun as it's made out to be." Then back to the arena, where historian and theremin artist Sarah Angliss talked about the invention of the first audio recordings on wax cylinders. She commented on the sensation this caused at the time. This made me think about something that seems so everyday in the world of telephones and iPods must have seemed incredibly alien when the first people actually heard their own voices. Angliss invited a member of the audience to record a wax cylinder, which prompted a young lady to bounce up onto the stage and yell, "I LOVE YOU SAUSAGE MAN!" into the cylinder. No doubt Sausage Man will be honoured.

Then, onto the evening social at a nearby pub. After a gleefully nerdy pub quiz, Sarah Angliss was back, with her "band" Spacedog made up of Angliss, her theremins and some robots.

Also comedian Helen Keen gave us a puppet show about the invention of the photocopier, inspired by her own temping between comedy gigs.

She commented, "When the first Xerox machine was made, it was originally intended that there would only be 5000 of them worldwide. Which means I've operated every single one of the fuckers."

The evening ended with a drag queen performing homage to Kate Bush, where one member of the audience received an impromptu makeover.

Surely, this photo must serve as a warning as to what people will get up to when you stop tolerating drugs.

And then I staggered off drunkenly into the night, ready for day two, which I shall post the review for tomorrow. The second instalment shall involve a talking mongoose, ventriloquist puppets and the desecration of a cursed stone head.