COLIN WILSON 1931 – 2013

Oh bother.
Another titan in my life has made his way to the great beyond.
His name was Colin Wilson and he was an English author. It would appear that he suffered a stroke back in June of last year and never really recovered. The world is indeed a smaller and less interesting place.
Colin is perhaps best known for his book ‘The Outsider.’ In his early twenties, Colin felt he never really fit in. At this point in his life he was living essentially a homeless lifestyle. During this period, he would pitch a tent in various parks around the city of London as well as kip in a sleeping bag on Hampstead Heath. During the waking days however, he would go to The British Library’s reading room and work on his manuscript for ‘The Outsider.’ It quickly went blockbuster in 1956 even while he was still living his meagre existence. The book became a sort of bible, a safety blanket for those poor souls who feel neglected and different in a changing and unkind world. Some would say that it was a major influence on the British ‘Angry Young Man’ cultural phenomenon that lasts to this day. Yet the book did well and Colin Wilson became somewhat of a celebrity because of it and was able to more to Cornwall to live for the rest of his life. The central theme of ‘The Outsider’ and a young Wilson is put as- 
‘…the seminal work on alienation, creativity and the modern mind-set. It made its youthful author England’s most controversial intellectual.’ 

While many an author would keep publishing books not unlike their most successful work, Colin Wilson chose to go another route and continue publishing books about the subjects that he found interesting. So in the sixties he devoted his attentions to more esoteric matters; the Occult, psychic powers, ghosts and hauntings, the supernatural and crime. For the next fifty years of his life he devoted all of his work to such things. I’m not sure if these were successful endeavours but I would assume they were because he continued writing them, thankfully.

It is this work that Wilson became a kindred spirit. Upon first coming across his material in my middle school’s library, about nine books in total if I can recall correctly, I was gobsmacked. There was an author out there who thought like me, was most entertaining as well as interesting and above all else- wrote like a storyteller. The best comparison that I can come up, in regard to how I felt when reading his works, comes from Wilson himself when talking about reading George Bernard Shaw for the first time and how excited he was in doing so.
‘ . . I found it impossible not to keep on reading with a kind of excited approval, like a spectator at a boxing match who has to shout his enthusiasm. . . Within a few lines, I was chuckling, then shouting with laughter — not so much because I found it funny as because it was so exhilarating. It made no difference whether I opened the Collected Plays at Widower’s Houses or Farfetched Fables; the effect was always the same: a sense of revitalization, of excitement, like setting out on a holiday.’ 

To this day, Colin Wilson remains perhaps one of my top five most inspirational writers. He is almost inseparable to me as the authors I affectionately refer to as ‘The Wilsons;’ Colin Wilson and Robert Anton Wilson. Every year for a period of a month or two, I would always devote a good chunk of time in ‘Keeping up with The Wilsons!’ A pursuit I cherish to this day.

You could probably find some of his work in the good used bookstores, should you be so inclined. For me however, I feel like I have lost a very good friend. I know it sounds trite and cliche, but his work really did mean that much to me and informed a good deal of my worldview and my interests. In his honour, today I braved the cold weather to sit in a Library not too far from me, to write this. A hollow gesture to be sure but a fitting one for me at least.

I’m not sure if Colin really believed much of what he wrote about; especially pertaining to life after death and ghosts. But here, right now, I think of my bookshelf and his work placed therein- He is most certainly alive still.

‘The characteristic of the really great writer is the ability of his mind to to suddenly leap beyond his ordinary human values, into sudden perception of universal values.’



Colin Wilson Wikipedia

Colin Wilson World Fan Site




There is a quote by Nietzsche upon Philology, that goes something like ‘What is Philology? The act of reading slow.’ Now, I’d never consider myself a student of Philology, but upon retrospect, this seems to be what I’ve done most of my life. I’m sure that my man Friedrich didn’t mean that I actively read at a slower pace; but merely when I read, I pay very close attention to what I’m reading to try to get every morsel of knowledge and learning from it. This requires a good deal of effort and patience.  My relationship with literature has been a two and a half decades long love affair, one which does not seem to diminish as I get older. For those that know me, I find happiness and solace in literature. Some of my closest friends and ageless teachers are authors whom I have never met, people and happenings that never happened and re-tellings of those that did. I find comfort with the learning that I garnered from literature. I do the same thing with music and films. To this end, I tend to process all three slow.

My reading habits have always been a bit, how shall we say, hyperactive. At any one time, I’ve usually got five books on the go and I’ve been doing this for years. I can’t really explain why, perhaps it has something to do with my short attention span or maybe it depends on what mood I’m in. As for what I’m reading, that also seems to be all over the map. Non-fiction, fiction, Comic books, numerous Wikipedia articles which I’ve bookmarked from an earlier time, I really don’t prejudice and I fail to see any distinction between them. To me, it’s all reading of some kind.  Learning for me, is next to godliness. These days, I am hugely addicted to reading the Introducing Series by Icon Books publishing. There is something quite special and appealing to me about all of them. The authors are the cream of the crop, usually university professors who are highly knowledgable about their subject matter. Add to this some wonderful illustrations and you basically have ticked two of the boxes for me – Non-fiction and Comic books. Give them a look if you have the time, there is pretty much something for everybody and many an instance can be had by finding an unlearned piece of information about something you thought you were familiar with. Or just do as I’m doing now and take a stab in the dark with a subject or person that you have no prior knowledge of. I cannot recommend them enough. They are very good and their books on Jung, Sociology, Kafka and Chaos really stand out for me. There is much knowledge to be had at a somewhat basic level. I cannot think of a better series of books for being a launchpad to greater learning about certain subjects.

Yet, upon doing all my slow reading of the Introducing Series, certain thoughts have recently come to me; certain thoughts about my learning and personal growth. Thoughts about development and amount of knowledge in this information age.

Another quote passed by my way recently. It was from a Hockey player (don’t judge) and he was quoting Gandhi (seriously). It goes a little something like this-

Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.

An interesting thing to say. An even more interesting thing to apply to ones life. So, with this quote and the recent onslaught of my binge slow reading of books; something triggered within my infantile mind. I started to think about my life and how I’ve lived it so far. It would seem that I have been doing much of the latter and very little of the former. For some reason and only now, perhaps I’m starting to have a problem with it.

When I was younger, I was terrified of time. Before I even knew what the word meant, I certainly had some existentialist leanings. There was a period of two years in pre-teen life where I could barely sleep. At night, when other boys my age would easily slip into unconscious bliss, I would lay in bed, carefully studying the walls and my surroundings; frightened. The most terrifying thing to me was Time and that there is only so much of it for me on this earth before it was all gone. The thought that I would be spending six to ten hours of this limited time, unconscious to the world- seemed such a horrifying thought. I would obsess over the minutes and hours that passed, trying my best to stay awake for as long as I could. Many nights, I just didn’t sleep and would be exhausted the next day. But in my mind, I thought I had won; I’d beaten time by not allowing sleep to take my consciousness away from me, not for one second. It wasn’t a fear of death that made me do this, but a fear of not being able to control what went on with my mind. Today, I still have sleep problems, but that’s another story. Eventually, I got over this thinking. A psychologist helped. That and an overabundant sense of resignation that I still carry to this day.

I’m getting older. And I look back and everything that I’ve learned and every piece of information that’s come my way. Recently, I’ve come to think- For what? It almost seems to me that I’ve spent so much time and effort on the learning of things. Since the age of fourteen, half of my life, I’ve dedicated to learn like I’m going to live forever. I slow read many of the books people said were important. I’ve slow listened to much of the interesting music. I’ve slow watched, repeatedly, the films that you need to watch to say you know about film. Almost obsessively, I sought all of this out and consumed it and brought it into me, tried to make it part of myself. Why I did this I’m starting to wonder. At the time I thought it was for a love of learning, a love for art and it abundant aspects. To me now, it looks like I did this as though at some point I’d be able to create the Alchemist’s Philosopher’s Stone. To be able to take all these books’ information, this music and film and craft through sheer will the ability to spin my life into pure gold. Perhaps at some point I will be able to. I’ll touch on this in a bit. Looking back however, I think that most of this was the fear and anxiety that I had earlier in my life, somehow transforming into something totally different. It gave me an appetite to learn. At some point, I thought that I’d eventually know the most about the things that intelligent people found important. So, by getting the information, somehow someday, I’d be important.

I see this kind of thinking in many young people. It’s the information age, it’s all there and we can all get it anytime we would like. Our world is creating a generation of film critics, music critics and literary critics. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The more people that we have with critical thinking skills, the better. But I just wonder if, like me, they really like what they read, watch or listen to; or if they are also trying to find the Philosopher’s Stone.

Yet, I don’t think this is working for me anymore. It might be time to change something. Come to think about it, this change has already been happening and upon reflection, I’m starting to notice. I worked at a video store for a good chunk of my life, I cannot even think of the amount of movies that I’ve seen. Now, movies are a love of mine and someday I’d like to make my own. It’s what I want to do with my life. But when people ask me if I’ve seen any great movies recently, I really can’t think of any. Deflecting the question, I usually mention some documentary or documentary TV program I watched on Youtube. Those I’m still watching because it’s those kind of things that I’d like to make. As for your current blockbuster or the newest art house essential, I’ve stopped going to those, let alone caring about them. At some point in the last three years, and I’m not sure how this happened, I just kind of decided that I’d gotten enough from narrative filmmaking. A Youtube video I saw not too long ago by Peter Greenaway (who is a great filmmaker and I will always watch his new films) seemed to confirm to me my falling out of love with watching movies. Somehow, unbeknownst to me, my mind seemed to have said ‘I think I’ve seen enough of those. Now what?’

The same thing seemed to happen to me with music. These days, I put on CBC Radio Classical music stations instead of any other new music stations. Again, my brain goes ‘Okay. Got it. Now what?’

While I am no longer laying motionless in bed, fully awake- I think some of that old anxiety has come back. The fear of time has returned but in yet another transformed state. This time, perhaps in a good way, at least- that’s what I’m trying to convince myself by writing this. Only now, while I’ve had the time to ruminate on it, do I think I know what’s going on. Allow me to throw in another Alchemy metaphor.

Solve et Coagula. It was the motto of the Alchemists. What it basically means, is to analyze a certain substance into it’s basic and elemental components, before bringing them back together into something totally new. To me, it almost seems like I’ve been doing a great deal of Solve. For half my life, I’ve devoted to reading and learning, to expanding my knowledge in the things that I thought were important. I’ve been endless breaking things down, trying to understand what makes something knowable, vital and maybe even sacrosanct. I have, for want of a better statement- been learning like I will live forever. My mind seems to want to do something else apparently. The time-fear is knocking again and it’s letting me know that it might be time to start with the Coagula. It might be time to start bringing in the elements and the essences that I have distilled and bring them in to create something new.

What to do. Where do I take this. Looking at my room and specifically at all my books, my notebooks and what I have to my life right now, I think I’ll start with them. The music and the movies will always be here, I carry them with me already. But my books, the things that I have within reach; They tell me that I don’t really need to go somewhere else to read slowly. Somehow knowingly, I’ve realized that one might have to turn further inwards and get knowledge from what one already has. Make these not unlike the Introduction series; the launchpad to further understanding.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not going to be burying my head in sand as far as learning and understanding. Life has a way of throwing new knowledge and experience at you whether you like it or not. And I will welcome it as it comes. Yet, with this and what I have already, it’s high time to get all of this into some form; allow everything that’s gone before to coagulate and spit itself out into the world. One thing that I certainly have not been doing enough of, is creating things. Foolishly, I used to think that knowing something meant as much as doing something. This doesn’t seem to be true to me any longer. Slowly, my mind apparently appears to have been making this transition a while ago and I’ve only just started to realize it. This conscious brain has slipped back into the tire-tread that perhaps, I’m not doing enough of ‘living as if I will die tomorrow.’

All this knowledge has to go somewhere. All these books, all this information. But it has to go outside of myself and into the waking world.


Just there, not too far from me, I spot the weight and suss out how it needs to be lifted. I’ve put the talcum powder on both my hands, rubbed them together and clapped.  Peering through the powdered particle cloud which I’ve just caused; I can see my laptop screen and my fingers reach out towards the keyboard.

I’m Back.

How long has it been? Ages. Through WordPress, I’ve just uploaded and moved my old Blog ‘ C H R O N I C L E S ‘ from Livejournal. It would appear that my last post on that old thought-dump was December 10th, 2010. Nearly three years ago. It’s been far too long… One of the ways in which I used to keep myself sane was through the act of writing. Where has my mind been since then? What has happened in my life but more importantly; my thoughts? How did I fall? Who knows?

I do.

This is a far greater way of me being able to communicate. I can think, process and create. All on my own terms. This should have continued. Three years of not having anything to say, it doesn’t seem right to me…  It has to start. And so I do. Start.

This is ‘The Thing.’

A Thing was a Viking assembly. Chiefs, Free Men, shamans, influential members of society, magicians, wealthy landowners among others; were all given a voice. They were given a chance to air out grievances, to prepare for the future, to solve problems. To the Vikings, this was a Thing.

But nowadays, a Thing is indeed many things. For now, this remains my Thing. At some point, I’d like to bring others into this assembly. To begin with however, I shall be the solitary voice, the chieftain who can promulgate his opinions and his madness… To none other than himself.

Here I go again.

– D. Batchelor

Loggin off…

See you in the new year. I’m going to be very busy for the next two weeks.
Then afterward, I will be going to Mexico for a small vacation; where I will probably figure out where I will move this Blog. Not happy with Livejournal, as you are aware. Apparently it is the most popular social networking site in Russia. Well, the Russians can keep it.

– B. M.

Ha! They Wrote Back!

AMC wrote me back. Funny.

Dear Viewer,

Thank you so much for your email regarding AMC’s original series,
“Rubicon.”  Unfortunately, we are not proceeding with a second
season.  However, we are proud of the series and grateful to have had
the opportunity to work with such a phenomenally talented and dedicated

We greatly appreciate your support of “Rubicon” this past season.
We take all of our viewer comments seriously and will share your
feedback.  Again, thank you.


AMC Viewer Services
11 Penn Plaza, 15th Floor
New York, NY 10001
(646) 273-7105

Oh bother. Well, at least it was nice of them.

– B. M.

ps- I am not very happy with Livejournal at this point. They are throwing ads everywhere. I might have to move CHRONICLES to Tumblr or WordPress. Any Ideas as to how to take all my posts here and move them somewhere else? I’ve seen it done before… jwz just did it. Man I wish I new more about this kind of thing…

Rest, Leslie.

Leslie Nielsen is a symbol.
A symbol of how the world seems to negate talent and surge for the average. Mr. Nielsen had many shortcomings. He admitted later in his life that he was raised in Saskatchewan, trained at a theatre school and put in the work that a young actor needed to put in. 
He wanted to be somebody, he wanted to be recognized and appreciated. He moved to L.A. and did more than fifty television programs, none of which were very memorable. He was a presence on on an earth which just could not recognize his ability, it was a ‘Forbidden’ planet for Leslie. No talent allowed in these parts.
The skies would, later in his life, open up to Leslie through a movie called ‘Airplane.’ It worked, because Leslie was a serious actor in a film that ran awry. But he never stopped being an actor, and never stopped being one of the best. It is because of ‘Airplane’ and his part in being the funniest man in the movie; that we recognize Leslie Nielsen. The seriously funny man.
By seriously funny, I mean that in the most special way. When Leslie was reaching his peak, we had a plethora of untalented wastrels struggling to make themselves famous, before burning out.
Leslie knew better, Leslie had done the work, seen failure and defeat, rose above them and carved his name on comedy’s tree.
Had I continued with my comedy influences postings (which I should really, and will- get back to) Mr. Leslie Nielsen would be there certainly. Whenever Naked Gun is on the television, I must finish it. Sure, the lines were not written by him, but there was only one man- Only one actor – who could deliver those lines as they should have been delivered.

My heart is heavy, and I feel like I have lost a dear friend. It has been a long time since my eyes welled up for a person that I have never met. Surely, you will be remembered.

Thank you, and don’t call me Shirley.

– B. M.

Gavin McInnes is a F**king A**hole

Or So he says so himself.
I have a certain love/hate relationship with Gavin. He was one of the founding members of Vice magazine; a rag that gets so many things right and wrong, it’s mind-boggling. While he was at Vice, he was most definitely the most vocal presence there. If you have not checked out his work, it is certainly worth checking out. Since leaving Vice he has started his own internet blog which is (reluctantly) a website I try to visit every day. It’s called STREET CARNAGE. And on it I have found some interesting and hilarious things.
If anything, Gavin McInnes has a somewhat unique way of looking at things. Take for example his newest post about the ruckus over the TSA fondling people. Now, I’m not sure where to stand on this issue, all I know is that I am kind of sick of hearing about it. As I’m sure, so is Gavin.
Give it a read, and feel free to comment on his take of the situation.