as the Sixth president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in 1904, having appeared before a U.S. Senate panel, the Second Manifesto confirming that the Church is opposed to, and will excommunicate anyone engaging in, plural marriage of any kind.

         Joseph F. Smith, Sr. (1838-1918), in the Sacred Grove, circa 1905, son of Hyrum Smith and nephew of the Prophet Joseph Smith, Jr.

Coincidentally, Smith would be brought to trial in 1906 on charges of unlawful cohabitation with four women in addition to his lawful wife; he would plead guilty and be fined $300.

A reader wrote in yesterday to ask when I had decided "to pick up the rock" -- a somewhat oblique reference, I believe, to what he felt was a post devoted to "burdensome" negativity.  When, the reader inquired, had I been made a Prophet?  A prophet, he seemed to intimate, of Doom.  Or as my mother would say, a 'Gloomy Gus.'

Mind you, I had not intended to be a buzz kill yesterday, I was only trying to comprehend the feelings and attitudes of a generation of film-goers and -makers -- a generation not even my own for crying out loud -- I was attempting to understand that sense of sad ambivalence ("liberal despair" was the phrase I borrowed from a critic) in the air these days -- and fine, maybe I came down a little harshly on the bleak side of the equation -- the whole war-for-oil trade off.  But never mind.  This reader's remark got me thinking, and it quickly became apparent from the most cursory of research that there were plenty of prophets out there.  And plenty of Smiths!

You will be interested to know that at least one Joseph Smith died in 1904 (Joseph Hyrum Smith, son of Joseph Smith Jr, otherwise known as the Prophet) in Elgin, IL in an insane asylum, cause of death unknown.  The Prophet his father, as you may know, had preceded him in a shoot-out in Carthage, IL.  Then there is a Joseph Smith who is born in 1904, and then there is Joseph F. Smith who as noted while President of the Church outlawed polygamy in 1904.  Lots of associations in the Mormon camp.

Not to mention a whole host of other prophets in other religions who predicted the End of the World in 1904, or wrote about the Coming End Times in 1904 for some prophesied future date which has now come and gone, the prophecy thus proving itself to be inaccurate.  There's even an elaborately interpreted prophecy attributed to Aleister Crowley, as I've mentioned before, but I'm not brave enough to tackle him just yet.  I mean, hello, talk about Prophet of Doom! 

Plus, as you all are sadly aware now, yesterday was Black Thursday with the passing of Deborah Kerr, Joey Bishop and chanteuse Teresa Brewer.  An unusual and even surprising Death Trifecta, but there you are.  A lovely tribute to Deborah in the Telegraph.  It is still hard to believe she's been taken from us.  Hollywood saw her as the perfect English Rose, if also a trifle cold and reserved in her beauty.  Deborah felt, however, that her demeanor hinted at 'banked fires' within.  An assessment of her charm with which I also happen to identify -- that aura of passion-which-smolders-beneath-the-steely-composed-and-calm-surface which you may have noticed about me. Or not.

In any event, let's not spoil the weekend with more talk of death and destruction.  It's Friday!  Put on your Happy Face!