Countess Tolstoy’s ‘Whose Fault’

Leo Tolstoy’s 1889 novella The Kreutzer Sonata was banned by the Russian censors. The story of a man who murders his adulterous wife, it lead the U.S. Attorney General Theodore Roosevelt to label the author a “sexual moral pervert.” The U.S. Post Office Department banned the mailing of newspapers containing serialized excerpts from the novella. The Count’s wife Sonya was also displeased.

Image‘Tolstoy had included incidents and details from their family life in The Kreutzer Sonata, and this had offended Sonya almost more than the moral he had drawn. She was certain that the world now thought of her as the ‘lustful, evil’ wife in the novel. As spring approached, she sat down to write a story in her defense, which would negate Tolstoy’s conclusions by telling the story from the woman’s point of view. She showed the finished story to Anna Dostoyevsky, Seryozha and Lyuova, and read it aloud when her friends gathered in the salon for tea and Tolstoy was safely in his study. Although ‘Whose Fault’ met with positive reactions, Sonya finally and reluctantly decided not to publish it. Once again her respect for her husband’s genius and her desire to publish all his work had won out. And it would have been impossible to include The Kreutzer Sonata in the new edition after the publication of ‘Whose Fault'”

Sonya, the Life of Countess Tolstoy, Anne Edwards, Simon and Schuster, 1981.

the before or after anything suit.


Their heads are together. He cares for the good things of life. He’s an achiever. He’s confident. He likes his clothes smooth, sexy, comfortable– masculine.

The ‘Do Anything’ jump suit goes to party, bistro, patio, or pad.

She makes the right decisions about her man, about her looks, about her clothes.

The ‘Do Anything’ jump suit of SuperSuedePlus  fits like a glove… tough looking, but soft as a kitten. Designed by Jump Suits, Ltd., for people like you (as shown). Slate blue, Chamois, Spice.

The Guy–$70.00

The Gal–$60.00

Election Night in Hyannis Port, 1960

Election night‘Finally the Senator stood up, took one last look at the television and said, “This will probably not be decided until morning. I think I will go over to the house and get some sleep.” Turning to Bob he said, “Let me know if you hear anything.” In is usual manner he turned and calmly went out the door.

Complete results from California, Michigan, and Illinois were still not in and no one knew how long it was going to take. The equipment was idle and people stood around, too tired to do much else. Finally, near four o’clock, a few began drifting out. Soon more left. I couldn’t see what good I was doing there, either, so I started to gather up all of my notes, pads, and pencils and put them into my briefcase, and said goodnight to those too tired or too discouraged to leave.

As I neared the outside door, Ted Sorensen, who was also about to leave, said, “Do you have a ride down to the Yatchtsman? If you’ll wait while I go upstairs to get one of my briefcases, you can ride down with me. My car is parked on the other side of the Senator’s house.”

A few minutes later we were walking across the back yard of Bob’s house. We had to watch our step because the place was booby-trapped with Kennedy bicycles, wagons, and other little folks’ equipment. There was a break in the hedge at the rear of the back yard, and from there we walked across the Senator’s lawn. Ted said: “I think the Senator was was to go to bed; it will be hours before we know the outcome.”

I was just agreeing with Ted when I looked over towards the Senator’s house and saw through that window a sight I will never forget. There in his big easy chair, light streaming over his shoulder, the Senator sat reading a book. Suddenly I was certain he was going to be our next President. I felt that he knew he was going to win. He was already getting ready for the next phase of his life.’

My Twelve Years with John F. Kennedy by Evelyn Lincoln, Personal Secretary to the President, David McKay Company, Inc. 1965.

Public Policy Polling: Conspiracy Poll Results


51% of voters say a larger conspiracy was at work in the JFK assassination, just 25% say Oswald acted alone

37% of voters believe global warming is a hoax, 5% do not.

29% of voters believe aliens exist

28% of voters believe secretive power elite with a globalist agenda is conspiring to eventually rule the world through an authoritarian world government, or New World Order

28% of voters believe Saddam Hussein was involved in the 9/11 attacks.

21% of voters say a UFO crashed in Roswell, NM in 1947 and the US government covered it up.

15% of voters say the government or the media adds mind-controlling technology to TV broadcast signals

14% of voters believe in Bigfoot

14% of voters say the CIA was instrumental in creating the crack cocaine epidemic in America’s inner cities in the 1980’s

9% of voters think the government adds fluoride to our water supply for sinister reasons

7% of voters think the moon landing was faked

6% of voters believe Osama bin Laden is still alive

5% believe exhaust seen in the sky behind airplanes is actually chemicals sprayed by the government for sinister reasons

4% of voters say they believe ‘lizard people’ control our societies by gaining political power

April 2, 2013, Public Policy Polling

Rob Ford Has Built a Subway


Rob Ford has built a subway

From Scarborough to Timbuktu

He has saved a billion dollars

He has done what he said he would do.

He’s the first to admit he’s not perfect

And henceforth, he’ll try to abstain

He has offered his fervent assurance

That he hopes it won’t happen again.

My Brother Lyndon


‘Back in the old days we used to play dominoes with some of his close friends on the Hill. His partner would be Jake Pickle or Homer Thornberry, while one of the girls (Lynda or Luci) would team up with me. Well, pretty soon I found out that Lyndon and Jake would pass signals to each other on the sly. Lyndon would lean back and say, “Wonder what ever happened to Judge Stokes?”

And Jake would look over his stack and answer, “Don’t reckon I know, Lyndon. Ain’t seen Stokes for a long time.”

Obviously, “Judge Stokes” was just a code name for some particular domino– a double deuce or a three or something else. So Lyndon was really saying that he had deuces and Jake was telling him that he didn’t have any.

Knowing they were trying to pull a fast one, I would scramble their damned code. “Hell, I saw Judge Strokes just this morning,” I told them. “Saw him two or three times before noon.”

Now, that would really puzzle my brother. Because he realized we both knew that Judge Stokes was down in San Antonio, a thousand miles away. Therefore, he could only conjecture that I was aware of their secret signals, and that I might have more deuces than he had. Accordingly, he would hold back his deuce to keep me from going out. But since I really didn’t have any deuces, he’d be trapped by his own trick.’

My Brother Lyndon, Sam Houston Johnson, edited by Enrique Hank Lopez, Cowles Book Company, Inc., 1969.

The Situation with Eileen

ImageIn 1996, Glenn Hoddle was made the manager of the English national football team. The most controversial aspect of his reign was the appointment of a faith healer named Eileen Drewery. Hoddle met Drewery through her daughter when he was a teenager. He had spurned her offer to heal his torn muscle, so Drewery repaired it with ‘remote access healing.’

By 1998, Drewery was made an adviser to the England squad. ‘I’m like an auntie,’ she told the press. ‘The players can come and talk to me about things they wouldn’t talk to their manager or physio about because it is personal.’ Hoddle’s unorthodox methods were unpopular with the team. ‘One of the masseurs told me Glenn had asked the staff to walk around the pitch anti-clockwise during the game against Argentina to create positive energy,’ the defender Gary Neville wrote in his memoirs. ‘Sadly, it didn’t do us much good.’ The England and Liverpool striker Robbie Fowler wrote about the experience in his wonderful 2005 autobiography.

‘For me, the worst thing was the situation with Eileen. She was a lovely woman, don’t get me wrong, and her husband Phil was a real decent fella, a down-to-earth diamond bloke. Some of the lads swore by her–people like Gareth Southgate reckoned she helped a lot. They used to run a pub in Essex, apparently, and when I went to her house to see her I spent most of the time in the back room in a bar that Phil had made in there, having a couple of beers and a chat. I got the impression he couldn’t get his head around it either. I  honestly don’t have any problems with what she did, because who am I to say whether a faith healer could help people or not? In fact, I heard stories about some amazing things that happened, that were supposed to have cured injuries and helped people get fit again….

… Anyway, it wasn’t the fact that she was available. I think that was fair enough, maybe even a good idea for the psychological effect it could have. It was more the fact that Glenn used to put players under incredible pressure to go and see her. It was made clear in no uncertain terms that if you wanted to be involved in his squads then you had to go and see her. It was ridiculous really, because everyone felt obliged to go, and not everyone could play! It was just a little bit sinister too, because I remember that even Michael Owen felt he had to go along, and he was just a tiny kid at the time, who had done nothing, not had an injury or even a drink, and there he was getting all his demons checked out. He was in there for half an hour or more, which didn’t seem right.’

Fowler: My Autobiography, Robbie Fowler, with David Maddock, Macmillan, 2005.