Jim Skardon (1904-1987)
Special Branch officer and MI5 Interrogator intimately involved with the investigation of the Cambridge Five. Skardon interrogated Kim Philby ten times, Anthony Blunt 11 times, as well as John Cairncross, Jim Hill and Klaus Fuchs, and he certainly deserves more than a biographical stub in Wikipedia. You should expand it.
Some days we all feel like spies and exiles.
Speaking of people driven into exile for their political beliefs, I am indebted to Justin for drawing my attention to the Telegraph obituary of Jules Dassin (pronounced Joolz DASS-uhn) who died Monday at the age of 96, the American director driven into exile for his early Communist sympathies, who went on to produce his best known work in France and Greece and married Melina Mercouri.
You may be interested to know that Dassin shares the same birthday (18th December) in 1911 as another American director, George Stevens, in 1904. Stevens got his big break directing Katherine Hepburn in "Alice Adams."
Given these signficant connections then, and given the tens of people who visit this site daily -- the scores of readers even -- I have to confess it confuses me that I still get the question --
Why 1904?
-- just when I think I should be stamping this file "Case Closed" and signing the book deal. And the option for the film rights. And making plans for the tour. What? Yes, I'll do box stores and malls. One-on-one interviews? Of course.
Well, my darlings, the clock is ticking is all I can say. The big day is coming. The end is in sight. By the time I get to Saugatuck -- by way of the 370 Pere Marquette out of Chicago's Union Station -- at the end of June (that's a hint), those of you out there who are still unconvinced will see the fearful symmetry, you'll understand, you'll say to yourselves, "a little arcane, perhaps, and over-determined certainly, and unsettling in its narrowly personal, idiosyncratic focus, and not -- from a shallow first impression point of view -- for the general population or mainstream consumption, but on second thought how wrong we were! How blind! If we'd only known, if we'd only realized the cosmic ramifications, the universal significance -- if we'd only stopped to do more than look at the pictures, if we'd only read between the lines, or the actual words! If we'd only seen then what it all meant! If only we'd paid more attention!"
Don't worry, my precious ones. I'm not going into exile. [Yet. - Ed. note]. I will perhaps feel like an interloper in Michigan even if I am among family and friends but that's just my nature. You know what I mean.
Because as only you can appreciate, at the end of the day there are Jim Skardons everywhere. They have questions for you. And just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean I don't look guilty. They might think you're a spy, even if you aren't. (They might be giants). There could be an interrogation, or two, or ten, or 11.
Just no waterboarding. Please.
Some days we all feel like spies and exiles.Speaking of people driven into exile for their political beliefs, I am indebted to Justin for drawing my attention to the Telegraph obituary of Jules Dassin (pronounced Joolz DASS-uhn) who died Monday at the age of 96, the American director driven into exile for his early Communist sympathies, who went on to produce his best known work in France and Greece and married Melina Mercouri.
You may be interested to know that Dassin shares the same birthday (18th December) in 1911 as another American director, George Stevens, in 1904. Stevens got his big break directing Katherine Hepburn in "Alice Adams."
Given these signficant connections then, and given the tens of people who visit this site daily -- the scores of readers even -- I have to confess it confuses me that I still get the question --
Why 1904?
-- just when I think I should be stamping this file "Case Closed" and signing the book deal. And the option for the film rights. And making plans for the tour. What? Yes, I'll do box stores and malls. One-on-one interviews? Of course.
Well, my darlings, the clock is ticking is all I can say. The big day is coming. The end is in sight. By the time I get to Saugatuck -- by way of the 370 Pere Marquette out of Chicago's Union Station -- at the end of June (that's a hint), those of you out there who are still unconvinced will see the fearful symmetry, you'll understand, you'll say to yourselves, "a little arcane, perhaps, and over-determined certainly, and unsettling in its narrowly personal, idiosyncratic focus, and not -- from a shallow first impression point of view -- for the general population or mainstream consumption, but on second thought how wrong we were! How blind! If we'd only known, if we'd only realized the cosmic ramifications, the universal significance -- if we'd only stopped to do more than look at the pictures, if we'd only read between the lines, or the actual words! If we'd only seen then what it all meant! If only we'd paid more attention!"
Don't worry, my precious ones. I'm not going into exile. [Yet. - Ed. note]. I will perhaps feel like an interloper in Michigan even if I am among family and friends but that's just my nature. You know what I mean.
Because as only you can appreciate, at the end of the day there are Jim Skardons everywhere. They have questions for you. And just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean I don't look guilty. They might think you're a spy, even if you aren't. (They might be giants). There could be an interrogation, or two, or ten, or 11.
Just no waterboarding. Please.
> The big day is coming; The end is in sight.
If this is some kind of gay cult, I certainly hope it's more sartorially advanced than its hetero counterparts. You might convince me the end is near, but I'm not going in a robe or purple Nikes.
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I thought that when the end is near your robe is folded neatly over your lined-up Nikes (of whatever color), and you fly off to heaven in the Altogether. That's what I thought. Are you saying that we fly to the Michigan Dunes?
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