The Diary—Old Hoax or New?

[Iconoclast]

I realised recently that - since Admin had closed down The Greatest Thread of All recently - I had been inadvertantly posting to a thread whose title was 'The Diary—Old Hoax or New?' and that that didn't make much sense for the world's most brilliant and famous Maybrickian (and therefore the one Ripperologist history will acclaim as having been right all along), so I resolved not to post on it in case foolhardy fellows and fellowesses thought that I was actually endorsing one possibility or the other. I'm not. It's not a hoax. Just in case anyone was in any doubt. Different thread, same theme from the Ikester.

But you have posted to it in my specific direction so I would hate to be seen as an unfriendly sort. What - I think - is required is a new pro-Maybrick thread with a really clever name that captures our dear readers' attention for fifteen years or so. But I can't think of a suitable title! Can any of my dear readers help, I wonder?

I see old Algernon Orsam has given up the ghost and formally retired from all future escapades never to be heard of again so he won't be making any (suitable) suggestions, I suspect. I will miss his Spandau Ballet-themed wit and wisdom. 'This much is fa-hake, this much is fa-hake', et cetera. Okay, I know he'll read this so I'm just winding him up. He's not retired at all. He has just resigned from everything ...

Ah, Newcastle!

Ah, Newcastle, indeed. Was back there just yesterday amongst the old back alleys and bloody rain.

I thought of you the other night, Ike. Don't be alarmed; let me explain.

You don't need to explain to me, RJ. I understand.

The political landscape on this side of the pond is so bleak among us left-of-center types that I am determined to permanently escape reality and devote the next four years to wholesome, family-oriented stories and films that will, with luck, soften my brain and lead to sentimental, addle-headed happiness while Western Civilization collapses.

Have you tried reading Orsam's articles on Maybrick? That should speed the brain-softening and addled-headedness, but probably do very little for the sentimentality aspect of your present condition. For the record, I'm hoping that Trump doesn't become the evil overlord he could be with such a powerful mandate from your neighbours (if not you), though I'm not putting any money on it. Can you imagine Trump, Xi, Jong Un, and Putin out on the piss in Times Square next Christmas? I'm not sure if there'll be room for all the tanks but at least Putin won't be able to turn Hell's Kitchen into a de facto oblast (I assume).

The first movie I came across was called 'The Rag Nymph.'

Ah, Catherine Cookson, Tyneside's finest author of mindless, utterly misogynistic claptrap. I particularly loved 'The Mallon Streak' where some posh bloke raped a young servant girl, she moved into a cave in a nearby hill to have the baby rather than be harassed as an unmarried mother by the disgusted locals, and he later 'sponsored' her life to help her with the mortgage, and I think possibly married her or something. I could be mixing-up my stories a little bit, but you get the gist of the sort of outrageous tales it was okay to tell in the 1970s or whenever. Still, the TV adaptation featured that wonderful quintessential English rose Honeysuckle Weeks so it was sort of endorsed by the unofficial 'British Establishment', I guess.

To my dismay, the opening credits alerted me to the fact that the story would take place in Newcastle in the 1850s. And what a dirty town it was.

When I left it for Edinburgh in October 1987, it was still quite grubby. You'd think someone would have got a mop and brush out?

Perhaps you are familiar with 'The Rag Nymph'; I wasn't.
Here, I thought, was a heart-warming tale of an orphan taken-in by a rag-and-bone woman. It would be mildly akin to Anne of Green Gables or Pollyanna--or your favorite, Annie.
Alas, it soon became apparent that the story dealt with child sex trafficking.

See what I mean?

By the way, my favourite song from Annie is 'Tomorrow'. Check out Sydnie [sic] Christmas' [sic] recent version on Britain's Got Talent - that girl's got some lungs on her, I can tell you. And some tonsils, I assume.

Which, by an association of thoughts, brought me back to our current political landscape on this side of the pond.

Aye, 'strange times, strange times' [thank you, Local Hero].

And then other stay thoughts started to pop up; Newcastle Brown Ale and Sandro Tonali faking an injury against Man City, and finally it led to our old friend Ike, the Maybrick guru (my knowledge of Newcastle is woefully limited).

I'm currently reading 'All With Smiling Faces', a light-hearted look at Newcastle United's formation from the old Stanley FC and then East End FC. If you want an introduction to all things Geordie, it's not a bad place to start. Except the bits where it mentions Sunderland AFC (formerly top of the English Championship but now not), obviously. I think 'Maybrick guru' sells me slightly short, but equally it was sort of a compliment too so I'm thinking about having it tattooed onto my arm. Let's hope the bugger [not a swear word in Newcastle, note], doesn't use Diamine ink, eh? [Maybrick joke for the uninitiated.]

By the way, old fruit, I have four books in front of me as I type - all by that much-lauded hoax-buster (pah!) Melvin Harris. Let no-one say that the now rather poorly-named Society's Pillar 2025 (due out in about 2030) will not be a balanced affair!

Unlike the game against Wet Spam on Monday evening (fortunately, I had screwed a hole into a gas pipe - no joke - and was therefore rather distracted from the action) ...

Ike

[rjpalmer]

I resolved not to post on it in case foolhardy fellows and fellowesses thought that I was actually endorsing one possibility or the other.

My apologies, Ike. I assumed (obviously incorrectly) that you had abandoned this thread because you could offer no coherent explanation for the strange and suspicious oily patterns on the inside cover of the photo album. I stand corrected.

I suppose Sir Jim could have taken Mary Kelly out for her final meal of fish & chips and what we are seeing is oil and vinegar. If I squint my eyes that kidney pattern mildy resemble a piece of cod. If I squint even harder, the whole diary resembles a piece of cod.

I could be mixing-up my stories a little bit, but you get the gist of the sort of outrageous tales it was okay to tell in the 1970s or whenever.

Actually, this bit of claptrap dates to 1997, but I realize that the Maybrickians tend to backdate bad art by two decades or more.

Alas, I gave up on The Rag Nymph half-way through episode 2; it became too much of a romance novel for my liking. I never heard of Catherine Cookson. Thanks for the warning. Much appreciated.

By the way, old fruit, I have four books in front of me as I type - all by that much-lauded hoax-buster (pah!) Melvin Harris. Let no-one say that the now rather poorly-named Society's Pillar 2025 (due out in about 2030) will not be a balanced affair!

Somewhere I have a magazine article Melvin wrote, knocking Our Lady of Knock; perhaps I could poke around for it to supplement your already substantial collection. If I recall, his theory involved a magic lantern, and he was afterwards condemned by the Pope.

Speaking of hoaxes, a friend of yours recently informed me that there was no analogy between the Maybrick Hoax and the Loch Ness Monster because Barrett's album physically exists. However, photographs of the Loch Ness Monster also physically exist, so I don't accept the logic. The most famous photograph was made using a toy submarine and the head of a plesiosaur fashioned out of plastic wood. It took nearly 60 years for the hoaxer to come clean, so provided your theories of authenticity are wide of the mark, we are still in the early days.

Cheers. It's turkey day here and must get my act together.

[caz]

I think the facts show otherwise, Mike, and unfortunately your argument is the same one formulated by Paul Begg on this forum over twenty years ago--that "Mike hated Feldman" and his allegedly bogus confession was just a way to ruin Feldman's project.

It doesn't compute.

Here's how Keith Skinner explained it back on January 15, 2018:

“Mike Barrett hated Paul Feldman. Blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in his life since the day Paul became involved with the project. The collapse of his marriage to Anne. Taking his daughter away from him. Hounding him day and night to confirm his (Paul’s) theory that he (Mike) and Anne had been given new identities by the Government. Paul Begg has frequently stated, privately and publicly, that Barrett would have done anything to have destroyed Feldman. Mike conclusively proving the diary to be a modern hoax which he created would have done just that.”

As I say, the trouble with Keith and Paul's theory is that it doesn't fit the facts.

When Barrett made his drunken confession to faking the Diary in late June 1994 (to Harold Brough of the Liverpool Post) Mike had no reason to hate Feldman. Indeed, Feldman stood to make Mike a lot of money. Mike and his lawyer both quickly retracted this drunken confession and Mike went into rehab.

Significantly, Feldman barely knew Anne at this point, so jealousy doesn't enter the picture. They were practically strangers. Feldman and Anne wouldn't become friendly, and Anne wouldn't join Feldman's team, until a month later, after a meeting in the bar of the old Moat House Hotel on July 23, 1994. (See Inside Story, p 105-107)

So, the chronology doesn't work.

Now hold the phone, I hear you say. Immediately after this Anne did become friendly with Feldman and joined his team. We are told Feldman even paid her a weekly allowance. So Mike could indeed have become jealous after July 1994.

There's just one problem. Mike's secret confessional non-circulating confession was never made public. If he hated Feldman why not circulate it? Why not shout it from the rooftops.

Here's the deal.

Nine months later, on September 13 and September 1995 Mike Barrett appeared on BBC Radio Merseyside with Bob Azurdia in front an audience of hundreds.

Here was Mike's big chance to "stick it to Feldman."

Here was Mike's big chance to reveal his confession to a live audience.

Mike could tell how he had sought out a blank Victorian diary in the weeks before coming to London. He could have revealed the author of the mysterious 'O Costly Intercourse' quote in the diary. He could have struck a savage blow against Feldman and Anne by naming her as the penmen. He could have at least tried.

Did he?

Did he heck.

Barrett instead defended the diary with more eloquence and eagerness than Tom "Iconoclast" Mitchell, denying his early confession to Brough, citing Shirley Harison chapter & verse, boasting how the diary was genuine and had passed all the ink and paper tests him flying cover. He was certain Maybrick was the Ripper. Feldman must have beamed from ear to ear.

Bob Azurdia had even caught wind (from Melvin Harris, evidently) of Mike secret confessional affidavit and asked him about it.

Barrett denied it even existed!!

Strange behavior for a man who wanted to 'stick it to Feldman'!!

You can hear Barrett's interviews here, Post #9

Rippercast Audio Archives: The Maybrick Diary - Casebook: Jack the Ripper Forums

Late to the party as usual...

What Palmer was missing here is that Mike could have wanted to 'stick it to Feldman' really, really badly, but if he was all too painfully aware that the risible rubbish he had put in that stupid affidavit of 5th January 1995 - assuming he'd have been able to recall any of the details accurately - was more likely to induce laughter, it wouldn't have got him anywhere.

This whole issue is about Mike's failure to produce a coherent, credible and supportable account of how and when he came by the scrapbook, which he claimed was used by himself and his wife to create the diary. The affidavit doesn't come close, which is as good a reason as any why Mike didn't 'stick it to Feldman' - whether or not he'd have liked to do so.

I think it can safely be said, however, that Melvin Harris did want to 'stick it to Feldman' - with great hairy knobs on. He too had Mike's 'secret confessional affidavit' in January 1995, and was unlikely to forget what it contained. So did he use this damning document to destroy Feldman's dreams? Did he buggery. Melvin put as little faith in its ability to damage Feldman's cause in 1995, as Feldman did himself when he was finally able to read what all the fuss was about.