Welcome to my site which will feature short stories, photos, etc that I would like to share with you.
Author: BJM Publishing
A number of years ago I decided to quit the rat race and pursue endeavours that interested me and that I would enjoy doing. I hope to showcase some publications that I have finished over these years to a like-minded audience. You are never to old to learn!
Some cars are just on another level—so exotic and impressive that they make everything else look ordinary. Most countries are lucky to have even one “legend” to their name. You’ve got the American Duesenberg SJ, Britain’s 12-cylinder Rolls-Royce Phantom III, Germany’s supercharged Mercedes SSKL, and France’s massive Bugatti Royale. But then there’s Hispano-Suiza. These cars were in a league of their own. No expenses were spared on their creation ensuring they were the best ever built.
The brand started back in 1901 when a Swiss engineer named Marc Birkigt convinced his Spanish boss, Emilio La Cuadra, to pivot from electric buses to motor cars. The name “Hispano-Suiza” literally means Spanish-Swiss, a nod to the Spanish money and Swiss engineering behind it.
During the 1920’s and ‘30s the company produced the vehicles that established its reputation among the elite of the world’s great motor cars. The H6, which debuted at the 1919 Paris Motor Show is still considered one of the greatest cars ever made.
When the Great Depression hit in the ’30s, most luxury carmakers panicked as their pool of wealthy buyers dried up. But Hispano-Suiza doubled down, refusing to compromise on their huge, powerful, over-the-top designs. While they eventually stopped production in France by 1938, they kept things going in Barcelona until World War II began.
One of the coolest stories from this era involves André Dubonnet, a wealthy heir to the aperitif fortune and race car driver. He commissioned the 1938 “Xenia”—named after his late wife—which is basically the peak of pre-war Art Deco design. It’s a sleek, curvy, one-of-a-kind masterpiece that looks like it’s from another planet. He won a sports car race at Boulogne with it in 1921.
In the end, Hispano-Suiza was a perfect mix of world-class engineering and pure style. Marc Birkigt eventually retired in 1950, and in a fitting twist, the French side of his company ended up merging with Bugatti.
Can you guess the other luxury cars in the above collage? Which is a kit car?
The man I’m about to tell you about was a giant—though he stood shorter than most.
His name was Greg Clark. Before the world got loud and digital, Greg was the voice of Canada. Back in the day, he was more famous than the Prime Minister, and for good reason. The editorial director of Weekend Magazine, once described Clark as “a man so Canadian that no other land could possibly have produced him.”
He started out as a bit of a rebel—failed out of the University of Toronto twice—before landing at the Toronto Star in 1911 where his old man was an editor. But the real world came calling in 1916. Greg went over to the mud and blood of the Great War. He survived three years in the trenches, winning the Military Cross for bravery at Vimy Ridge.
When he came home a Major, he wrote a story that still haunts the neighbourhood in Toronto. It’s called “One Block of Howland Avenue.” You see, every single young man on his block died in that war, except for Greg and his brother. When they finally came home from the war their father met them at the beginning of the street and begged them to take the long way around—to go through the back alleys—so the grieving neighbours wouldn’t have to see two sons coming home when theirs never would.
Greg carried that heart into his writing. In the ’20s, he sat across from a “tall young squirt” named Ernest Hemingway at the Toronto Star. Greg actually told the kid to give up on fiction and stick to reporting! He laughed about that later, of course, once Hemingway became… well, Hemingway.
Through the 30’s, Greg was the man people turned to. He covered the big stuff—the Lindbergh trial, the forming of the UN, the coronation of a King—but his greatest moment was at the Moose River Mine. When every other reporter packed up and gave up on the trapped miners, Greg stayed. He was there, in the silence of the woods, when the first faint tap-tap-tap came from the earth. He got the scoop because he had the patience to wait.
Though he was too old to fight in the second war, he went back as a correspondent. He saw the Blitz, Dunkirk, and the front lines in Italy. He lost his own son to that war, a blow that would’ve broken a lesser man. But Greg kept writing. He moved to the Montreal Standard and Weekend Magazine, sharing tales in his column, “The Packsack,” that felt like a warm letter from an old friend.
He won everything—the Order of Canada, the Leacock Medal, honorary doctorates. But if you asked him? He’d probably tell you his proudest moment was being inducted into the Canadian Fishing Hall of Fame.
He died in ’77, and most of his nineteen books have slipped out of print, which is a damn shame. He knew how to find the “human touch” in the darkest of times. He lived through the horrors of war and the heartbreak of losing his son and wife, yet he still wrote with a rhythm and a grace that made you feel like the world was going to be alright.
So, next time you’re in a dusty old bookstore, look for his name. Scour the shelves for a bit of Greg Clark. We could all use a little more of his integrity and his humour in our own lives today.
Gather ’round, everyone! Lean in, because I’ve got a tale for you about two of Kitchener’s most famous “ladies” who spent decades looking for a permanent home.
Imagine it’s 1940. A local artist named Helen Waimel Robertson—who was a total rock star in the sculpture world—decides to create something a bit “extra” for the era. She crafts these two stunning Art Deco statues. They aren’t just any statues, though; they’re sea goddesses, or Nereids*, elegantly hitching a ride on the backs of dolphins. *They represent the beauty and goodness of the sea.
Now, here’s the cool part: Helen didn’t just use plain old cement. She mixed in quartz aggregate. So, when the sun hits them just right, they don’t just sit there—they sparkle.
But back in the 1940s, Kitchener was a pretty quiet, conservative place. When a local businessman named Roy Bullas put these “nude” sea nymphs in a fountain outside his furniture store on Charles Street, it caused quite the stir! People weren’t exactly used to seeing mythical goddesses hanging out by the sidewalk. They became a local landmark, but they definitely raised a few eyebrows.
Fast forward about forty years. The wrecking ball arrives! The Bullas store is being torn down to build the downtown bus terminal. For a minute there, it looked like our sparkling goddesses might end up in a scrap heap. Luckily, a local couple, the Kachiks, stepped in like art-world superheroes and saved them from the rubble.
After that, the statues spent a long time hiding away in city storage—basically a dark, dusty basement. It wasn’t until 1998 that they finally got their “happily ever after.” Thanks to some serious persistence from the artist’s sister, the city brought them out of retirement.
Because they’re made of that special sparkling concrete, they couldn’t stay outside forever—the Ontario winters are a bit much for even a sea goddess! So, they were moved into the “refreshment” lobby of the Centre In The Square. Today, they stand there finally dry, warm, and ready to greet everyone coming to see a show.
So, next time you’re in the theatre for a performance, look for the ladies on the dolphins. They’ve survived the 1940s critics, a demolition crew, and years in a storage locker just to sparkle for you!
Note: A sculpture is a three-dimensional work of art. It can be made of stone, metal, clay, or other materials. A statue is an artwork that depicts a person or an animal or part of a person or animal. The terms sculpture and statue are often used interchangeably.
If you should choose to have yourself cremated instead of buried in a cemetery perfectly preserved in whatever state you happened to be in when the grim reaper knocked on your door; there are certainly several methods available to you. Some of the conservative ways are to have your ashes put into an urn and then in a grave or interred into what looks like mailboxes at your local UPS store or placing the urn on your mantelpiece, provided you have a fireplace at home.
We are not interested in boring, we want the dramatic. If we can’t have a Viking shooting an arrow out over the water to set the barge with our remains on fire then – we might consider some of the alternatives in the list below.
Underwater Reefs: Ashes are mixed with environmentally safe concrete to form a reef ball placed on the ocean floor, helping to rebuild marine habitats.
Vinyl Records: Some services press ashes into a functioning vinyl record, which can include a personalized soundtrack or recorded voice messages.
Aerial Scattering: Ashes can be released during a skydive, often from over 10,000 feet, allowing them to disperse over a significant landscape.
Cremation Diamonds: Carbon can be extracted from the ashes to create synthetic diamonds which can then be set into jewelry.
Hot Air Balloon or Drone Release: Ashes can be scattered from a hot air balloon or a drone over a scenic location for an aerial tribute.
Glass Art Pieces: Ashes are mixed with hot glass by artisans to create unique, colorful vases, paperweights, or ornaments.
Memorial Tattoo Ink: Remains are sterilized and mixed with tattoo ink, allowing for a permanent memorial tatto
Space Burial: A portion of remains can be launched into space, with options for orbiting the Earth, traveling to the moon, or entering a deep-space journey.
Memorial Fireworks: Stuffed into fireworks so we can light up the sky one last time and shower sparks and ashes on the family and friends below
An Hourglass: Taking some of the ashes, putting them in an hourglass and using it to mark the time at family game nights, probably a preferable option if you spent most of your time at these games, yelling at your opponents or trash talking them. A quieter alternative, if you will.
Which ever method you choose, I feel it is vital that you honour the wishes of the person who requested it upon their death.
When my brother died, he had left instructions that his ashes were to be spread in various places in Ontario and a few in PEI. If you are of the mind that you will be reincarnated, this may become tricky; however we did do this for him. As this was not technically legal, we were very subversive in carrying out his instructions.
My brother had a certain sardonic sense of humour. I was to spread his ashes at the place where he worked, the place he lived most of his adult life, the grounds of the house where he lived when he died, and the garden at the house we grew up in. The first three were relatively easy and all in the same City. The last, not so much! Our old house had been torn down and a huge mansion built in its place and most of the garden had disappeared but there were a few bushes near the road just off their driveway.
My older brother and my best friend had come with me for moral support. He, however, parked the car at the end of the road in case the cops came and they could make a quick getaway leaving me to explain the situation. That’s a different kind of support! I had some of the ashes in a film canister and casually dropped them in the bushes as I languidly walked by the driveway. Thankfully no one came out to ask what I was doing, no alarms went off, no dogs barking, etc. We had pulled it off!
Even though there was some concern on my part, I respected his wishes and I hope that when my time comes, my family will respect mine. How would you like your remains to be scattered? Were there some methods I have left out that you would prefer?
It was established in 1719 and achieved full independence in 1866. Situated between Austria and Switzerland, Liechtenstein is one of only two doubly landlocked countries (along with Uzbekistan) in the world. The capital city is Vaduz.
It spans about 62 square miles, making it the sixth smallest country on Earth. (Following Vatican City, Monaco, Nauru, Tuvalu, and San Marino). It has a population of about 39,000. The terrain is mountainous, ideal for skiing, and largely covered by the Alps. It is a parliamentary monarchy with a Prince (Head of State) who holds significant political powers, including vetoing legislation.
Vaduz Castle (German: Schloss Vaduz) is the palace and official residence of the Prince of Liechtenstein. In 1984, Prince Franz Joseph handed over power and everyday duties of the monarch to Hans-Adam, with Hans-Adam thus becoming regent, while his father remained the nominal monarch.
Following his father’s death in 1989, Hans-Adam officially ascended to the throne. On August 15, 2004, Hans-Adam formally handed the power of making day-to-day governmental decisions to his eldest son Hereditary Prince Alois as regent, as a way of beginning a dynastic transition to a new generation.
Legally, Hans-Adam remains the head of state. Hans-Adam is no mere figurehead prince. He is much wealthier and much more powerful than Britain’s Charles III, with a fortune of $12.6 billion, according to Bloomberg. This is 25 percent more than the annual GDP of “his” country, over which his family exercises complete control.
German is the official language. The population is predominately Roman Catholic. You can explore the entirety of this tiny country by walking its 75-kilometre-long national trail from Balzers on the Swiss border to Schaanwald on the Austrian one if one were so inclined. Known for a strong banking sector and tax-efficient system.
The currency used in Liechtenstein is the Swiss franc. Industry (manufacturing and construction) accounts for 42.2% of the gross domestic product (GDP). The largest branches in Liechtenstein’s strongly export-oriented industrial sector are machine and tool engineering, plant construction, precision instruments, and the dental and food sectors. Liechtenstein disbanded its army in 1868, and has had no standing army since. It also does not have an airport; you normally reach this tiny principality by train and/or bus/ and car.
What’s more fun than looking at some of the tiniest pieces of art? Postal stamps. Like Liechtenstein, they are small but mighty, and you can explore a museum entirely dedicated to Liechtenstein’s unique stamps. This museum is small, so it won’t take a lot of your time, but it’s worth popping in to see Liechtensteinian postage stamps through time. The country began creating postage stamps in the early 20th century, and since then, hundreds of beautiful and meaningful designs have been created. It was part of my mission when I toured Europe to obtain some of these stamps for my brother who was a stamp collector (Philatelist). Sadly, I did not keep any for myself. If interested click on link for the postal museum.
With no photos allowed and a relatively small collection, many visitors seem to find the Liechtenstein Treasure Chamber a bit of a let down. I didn’t find it that way though. While the room is small, it’s packed with unique treasures, including the Liechtenstein royal coronet, an ultra rare ‘Apple Blossom’ Fabergé Egg, and even a piece of moon rock from the Apollo 11 mission.
The 1901 Fabergé Apple Blossom Easter Egg is rumoured to be worth £30 million
For culture lovers, another must-see in Vaduz is the Kunstmuseum Liechtenstein, a contemporary art museum showcasing international and local talent in a striking, modern building. If you are not into modern art, however, it may not be for you. Even if you only get a stamp in your passport, Liechtenstein is worth a visit. Go explore and make memories!
In the 1960s, Volkswagens—specifically the ‘Beetle’ and the ‘Microbus’—attained legendary status by serving as both practical transport (more miles to a gallon of gas) and powerful cultural symbols. Their popularity was driven by a combination of affordability (everyday working class and students), mechanical simplicity (easy to repair), and a revolutionary marketing campaign that resonated with a generation looking for an alternative to mainstream American consumerism. Check out “think small” campaign on youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8KQVjvmEGk
The car’s modest, unchanging design represented a rejection of “planned obsolescence”—the American trend of changing car styles every year to force new purchases. Young people today would know that term from the Apple and Samsung lawsuit for deliberately slowing down the performance of older models of their phones.
Many critics, consumer advocacy groups, and technology analysts consider the constant upgrading of Windows—specifically the transition from Windows 10 to Windows 11—to be a form of planned obsolescence. This perspective argues that Microsoft is employing a “design to die” approach, where functional hardware is rendered obsolete by software requirements, forcing consumers to purchase new devices.
Ecclesiastes 1:9 says, “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.”
The Beetle and Microbus were available, cheap, and relatively reliable by the standards of the 1960s. These were solid assets for a subculture that could be short on funds. Volkswagen managed to fulfill this niche despite its less than savory origins.
In the 1930s, Adolf Hitler commissioned Ferdinand Porsche to design an affordable, reliable car for the German masses—a “Volkswagen”. It was intended to represent Nazi Germany’s engineering superiority.
The production of the Beetle relied on forced labor, including prisoners of war and victims from concentration camps, to build the factory and the vehicles. The Nazis launched a program allowing workers to save for a car by buying stamps. Thousands of Germans paid into this scheme, but when war broke out, the factory pivoted to military production, and not a single civilian customer ever received their promised car, nor were they refunded. So a product of the usual political corruption and fraud that runs rampant today.
How then did the Beetle become a symbol of fun, freedom, and rebellion?
The Volkswagen Beetle became immensely popular in the United States and Canada during the 1960s and 1970s by offering a, reliable, and affordable alternative to the large, fuel-thirsty “land yachts” produced by Detroit at the time. Its success was driven by a combination of, clever marketing, superior engineering for its price point, and its eventual adoption as a counterculture symbol partly through movies like the ‘Herbie’ series, etc.
The punch buggy game involves players spotting Volkswagen Beetles and calling out “punch buggy!” (and colour) when they see one, earning them the right to deliver a (supposedly) gentle punch to a fellow passenger’s arm. And that’s really the whole game: The first person to spot a VW Bug and call it out gets to punch someone. Simple but possibly quite bruising to one’s arm. We still play it today but since volkswagens have all but disappeared around our area, we don’t play as frequently. I have heard though that the VW beetle is supposed to be making a comeback in 2026. Fingers crossed!
Depending on the culture and circumstances, a kiss can express a wide range of emotions, such as love, passion, romance, sexual attraction, sexual arousal, affection, respect, a wish for peace or good luck, as well as numerous other meanings.
There are many examples of the kiss being depicted in artwork through woodblocks, sculpture, posters, book covers, etc., but I will restrict myself to 8 paintings and one iconic photograph for the purpose of this post.
Painting from 1785 in State Museum of the Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia.
Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732–1806) was a prolific French painter and a central figure of the Rococo movement, renowned for his rapid, virtuoso brushwork and lighthearted, erotic, and pastoral scenes. Born in Grasse, he trained under Francois Boucher. Fragonard was highly productive, producing over 500 paintings in his lifetime. Though his reputation waned during his later years, he is now celebrated as one of the most brilliant painters of the 18th century. He died in 1806 in relative poverty and anonymity.
The Kiss by Francesco Hayez, 1859. It is displayed in The Pinacoteca di Brera, the main public gallery for paintings in Milan, Italy.
Born February 10, 1791, in Venice to a poor family of French-Venetian origin. Francesco Hayez (1791–1882) was the leading Italian Romantic painter in 19th-century Milan, renowned for blending Neoclassical precision with emotional, patriotic themes. His work, including the iconic The Kiss (1859), featured historical scenes, portraits, and political allegories supporting Italian unification. He served as a professor and director at the Brera Academy. He passed away in Milan, Italy.
Toulouse-Lautrec – “In the bed, the kiss” (between 1892 and 1893) in a private collection.
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864 – 1901) One of the leading Post-Impressionist painters, Toulouse-Lautrec was born at Albi (in the south of France) the son of Count Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec, one of the oldest and most prestigious French families,
During his brief artistic career, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec captured the lively and often sordid atmosphere of Montmartre’s late 19th-century dance halls, cabarets, and theaters. From 1891 until his death he produced nearly 350 lithographic posters, editioned portfolios, and illustrations for journals and theater programs.
Lautrec’s alcohol consumption eventually caught up with him and in 1899, he suffered a severe nervous breakdown, spending three months in a clinic. Despite attempts at recovery, his health deteriorated, culminating in a stroke and partial paralysis. He passed away on September 9, 1901, at the age of 36, leaving behind a legacy of innovative art and enduring influence.
The Kiss (1892-97) by Edvard Munch is abstract and drab compared to Klimt’s painting of the Kiss (below) but still very compelling.
Edvard Munch (1863–1944) Born in a farmhouse in the village of Ådalsbruk in Løten, Norway, Munch was a Norwegian painter and printmaker whose intensely emotional, Symbolist-inspired work pioneered Expressionism. Edvard Munch was confronted with death early on. When he was six years old, his mother passed away from tuberculosis, and his sister died a few years later. The death of his father in 1901 who was prone to severe depression, plunged him into a deep crisis. In 1908 he had a mental breakdown and served seven months in a facility in Copenhagen.
Known for The Scream (1893), his art focused on themes of anxiety, love, death, and human vulnerability, deeply influenced by a childhood overshadowed by disease, bereavement, and strict religious views. Munch was incredibly prolific, creating thousands of artworks over his six-decade career. And because he enjoyed widespread fame by the end of his life, he wasn’t compelled to sell the majority of his paintings and prints, but rather retained and lived with them. His works were so powerful that they caused a sensation when he first exhibited them, but not everyone loved them. His paintings were controversial because they depicted such unsettling themes as death and insanity. He lived and worked in relative isolation at Ekely, near Oslo, continuing to paint until his death on January 23, 1944. He left the majority of his work to the City of Oslo.
The Kiss by Gustav Klimt 1907-08 The painting now hangs in the Österreichische Galerie Belvedere museum in the Upper Belvedere Palace in Vienna, and is considered a masterpiece of Vienna Secession – the local variation of Art Nouveau – and probably Klimt’s most important work.
Gustav Klimt (1862–1918) was a pioneering Austrian Symbolist painter and a leading figure of the Vienna Secession movement. Known for his decorative style, golden leaf techniques, and erotic themes; his work combined complex psychological symbolism, mythological themes, and overt female sensuality, often causing controversy. He heavily featured female figures, eroticism, and mosaics, transforming late 19th-century art into decorative, luxurious Art Nouveau masterpieces. Though he never married, Klimt had many lovers and is said to have fathered 14 children. Klimt died in 1918 in Vienna at age 55 due to pneumonia contracted during the influenza pandemic of that year.
L’Anniversaire by Marc Chagall, 1915 showcased at the MOMA in New York City
Marc Chagall (1887–1985) was a Belarusian-French artist and early modernist known for his dreamlike, vibrant paintings blending Russian Jewish folklore with Fauvist and Cubist influences. His iconic style features floating figures, nostalgic memories of Vitebsk where he was born, and rich symbolism, spanning painting, stained glass, and stage design. Born Moishe Shagal on July 7, 1887, in Vitebsk, Russian Empire (now Belarus). He grew up in a poor, religious Jewish family, the eldest of nine children.
Prodigious in oil painting, stained glass, murals, ceramics, tapestries, and book illustrations. Chagall is considered a master of 20th-century art, bridging the gap between surrealism and expressionism with a unique, poetic vision. Passed away on March 28, 1985, in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, France, aged 97.
Magritte’s The Lovers (1928) – The Museum of Modern Art in NY
René Magritte (1898–1967) was a prominent Belgian Surrealist artist known for challenging perceptions of reality by placing ordinary objects—bowler hats, pipes, apples—in unusual, unsettling contexts.
He found respite from his challenging and unstable childhood — with an unpredictable textile merchant father and a mother who suffered from depression and eventually committed suicide by drowning in a river— by running rampant with his brothers, Raymond and Paul.
Magritte’s earliest oil paintings, which date from about 1915, were Impressionistic in style. From 1916 to 1918 he studied at the Academie Royale des Beaux-Arts in Brussels. The oil paintings he produced during the years 1918-1924 were influenced by Futurism and by the offshoot of Cubism practiced by Metzinger. Most of his works of this period are female nudes. Magritte explored his ideas through a variety of media, including photography, printmaking and sculpture. His gouaches, revered for their delicacy and detail, are an important part of his oeuvre.
Magritte’s successful career in advertising — he ran an agency, Studio Dongo, with his brother, Paul, in the 1930s — probably helped to hone his idea of how to make an image stick. In a tumbledown shack in his garden, Magritte created posters, music covers and advertisements right up until the 1950s, long after he had become internationally acknowledged as an artist. He never abandoned the commercial world, but went on appropriating its advertising strategies into much of his art.
Popular interest in Magritte’s work rose considerably in the 1960s, and his imagery has influenced pop, minimalist and conceptual art. Magritte died of pancreatic cancer on 15 August 1967.
Victor Jorgensen – “Kissing the War Goodbye” (1945) – National Archives Museum in Washington, D.C.
Victor Jorgensen was born in Portland, Oregon on July 8, 1913. He attended the University of Oregon and Reed College before starting work at The Oregonian, where he rose from copy boy to night city editor. It was during that time he became interested in photography as well as writing. In 1942, Jorgensen enlisted in the Navy and was one of six initial photographers recruited by Edward Steichen to join the Naval Aviation Photographic Unit during the war; and probably is most notable for taking an instantly iconic photograph of an impromptu scene in Manhattan on August 14, 1945, but from a different angle and in a less dramatic exposure than that of a photograph taken by Alfred Eisenstaedt.
Both photographs were of the same V-J Day embrace of a woman in a white dress by a sailor. Eisenstaedt’s better known photograph, V-J Day in Times Square, was published in Life. The one taken by Jorgensen appeared in the New York Times.
Victor Jorgensen died of cancer on June 14, 1994, just before his 81st birthday.
Roy Lichtenstein – “Kiss V” (1964) painting is held in a private collection
Roy Fox Lichtenstein ( LIK-tən-STYN; October 27, 1923 – September 29, 1997) was an American artist born in New York City. A leading figure of the Pop Art movement, he is best known for his large-scale paintings inspired by comic books, advertisements, and mass-produced imagery.
Lichtenstein’s work broke the barriers between popular culture and fine art, challenging long-held conventions and paving the way for new forms of artistic expression. Roy showed artistic and musical ability early on: he drew, painted and sculpted as a teenager, and spent many hours in the American Museum of Natural History and the Museum of Modern Art. He played piano and clarinet, and developed an enduring love of jazz, frequenting the nightspots in Midtown to hear it.
Early in his artistic career Lichtenstein studied the work of Pablo Picasso, Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky, and Joan Miró. Eventually he realized that some of the techniques employed by these artists were also used in the comics he loved, including outlines, abstracted shapes, and flattened forms.
In August 1997, Lichtenstein fell ill with pneumonia. He died unexpectedly of complications from the disease on September 29, 1997, at the age of 73.
This is a rather long post, but hope you enjoyed it.
REFLECTIONS OF A SWAMPER 