Steven Wilson Retrospective #24: Steven Wilson - "Hand. Cannot. Erase." (February 27, 2015

Spotify link to Hand. Cannot. Erase.

Read Part 1 if you haven't already! Since this is an ongoing review of a multimedia project, Part 1 has necessary context. Part 2's purpose is to tackle all the remaining elements except for the album itself...that's reserved for Part 3.

Missing Persons

On the topic of the missing persons, there are five major names to consider: Lena Springer, Teresa Cavanagh, Sian Preston, Jane Rimer, and Madeline Hearne (although for Lena Springer, refer back to Blog Entry 29 from Part One).

For the record, the quotes pertaining to Sian Preston, Jane Rimer, and Teresa Cavanagh (Madeline Hearne’s another matter) stem from this image that originated from the Deluxe Edition materials (for the record, the newspaper clipping to the left consists of the lyrics to “Routine”):

Teresa Cavanagh

Teresa Cavanagh went missing from Bristol sometime between 8th-10th November 1999. At that time she was 32 years old and had been working at an estate agents as a secretary. When she failed to arrive at work 2 days running, the manager contacted the police. She is described by those that worked with her as having a pleasant personality, though somewhat quiet and reserved. Her family is extremely anxious for news of Teresa and urge anyone who may know something about her to get in touch. They want to know that Teresa is alive and well and happy. Teresa is 5ft 6in tall, of medium build with light brown hair.

Just from the opening sentence (“Teresa Cavanagh went missing from Bristol sometime between 8th-10th November 1999”), there’s two elements of detail worth dissecting. First, the specific dates of “8th-10th November 1999” appear significant until one looks those dates up and discovers that they don’t correspond to a historical event—an example of Steven (who’s credited in the liner notes as writing the text for most of the DE materials) throwing analysts off his scent. Secondly, the city mentioned (“Bristol”) happens to have the 10th-largest population of any city in England. This means that much like London, this is a large city that’s easy to get lost in—deliberately or otherwise.

More elements can be ascertained from the fact-based reportage of the next sentence “At that time she was 32 years old and had been working at an estate agents as a secretary.” For starters, “32 years old” is a younger age of disappearance than that of H (age 36) or Joyce Carol Vincent (who was 38 at the time of her death in December 2003). However, it’s still within the ‘thirty-something’ ballpark of most of the missing women. Next, the mention that Teresa was “working at an estate agents as a secretary” indicates that she wasn’t in a notable working position. But this still contrasts with H’s occupation/day-job, which she mentions once in the blog (specifically) but never gives anything hinting at what her job is—a sign that H’s day-job remains so mundane that it’s not worth addressing.

Another pair of components comprise the next sentence: “When she failed to arrive at work 2 days running, the manager contacted the police.” Beginning with “2 days running,” there’s the sense of incompetence—in missing person’s scenarios, it’s often ‘the sooner the better’ regarding finding the abductee. So waiting “2 days” to start checking up on Teresa isn’t a wise idea and only ensures her disappearance. This also goes to show that the “police”—an authority figure—is far from infallible. If one believes the Visitors constitute a supernatural element to the narrative, one can use that to justify the incompetence of the police—they’re outmatched by what the Visitors can do (if they’re real at all).

Perspective recurs during the next sentence: “She is described by those that worked with her as having a pleasant personality, though somewhat quiet and reserved.” Specifically with the wording of “those that worked with her” since that’s not the same as knowing her. For all the reader knows, these co-workers were no closer to Teresa than a stranger. Especially since the description of “quiet” allows Teresa to have something in common with both Lena and H.

This segues into notions both comforting and disheartening via the next sentence: “Her family is extremely anxious for news of Teresa and urge anyone who may know something to get in touch. They want to know that Teresa is alive and well and happy.” Comforting since the phrase “Her family is extremely anxious” remains an understandable response to this situation—and the same response shared by the family members of Sian. However, the phrase “anyone who may know something” conveys an extreme sense of desperation—that the family’s at the point where they’d believe lies as long as it leads to Teresa’s recovery. But this sentence ends with the phrasing that the family wants to know “that Teresa is alive and well and happy.” Fittingly, all three of these qualities are unknowable due to the limitations of the interior mind (one can be ‘dead inside,’ per-se). Moreover, the implications of what we know of the Visitors from H suggest that all three of those qualities (life, wellness, and happiness) aren’t possible simultaneously in the chaotic world.

The sentence which concludes this article (“Teresa is 5ft 6in tall, of medium build with light brown hair.”) unearths a couple of curious segments. First of all, that Teresa’s height is marked at “5ft 6in” places her within the height ranges of the other missing girls. More strikingly, Carrie Grr (the model who portrays H in the promotional materials for Hand. Cannot. Erase.) is listed by a modeling agency as having that exact height, placing the missing women in-line with H.

Speaking of Carrie, a quote from an interview dated April 25th, 2015 (found here) proves valuable towards the narrative and DE materials:

“All pictures are from my childhood. It's rewritten my own life, that's the way to say that. It was necessary to create a figure that embodies a girl of flesh and blood. A girl, that's just like you and me. It should come across as believable as possible. All those loose objects were created for this purpose to tell the story of a real person.”

I’d let all of that speak for itself, but that has implications regarding a blurring of the lines between fiction and reality. As well as creating moral gray areas with the photographs containing Carrie’s parents (since they might not have been asked about it).

Jane Rimer

Rochester University student, Jane Rimer, disappeared on 16 April 2006. That afternoon Jane had handed in an assignment, then left to return to her room in the halls of residence. According to those that spoke to her in the days before, Jane seemed more distant and distracted than normal. Her parents had not heard from her in 2 weeks, but on that evening of the 16th at approximately 10.15pm she phoned them using her mobile phone. During this conversation they felt that Jane was not her usual self, like she had taken medication of some kind. The following day she failed to arrive for several classes at the university and her tutor called her mobile phone repeatedly, but each time it went straight to voicemail. When Jane did not show up again the following day, the police were alerted. Upon entering her room it was discovered that Jane’s passport was missing, but everything else including her credit cards and mobile phone were present. The phone had been switched off following the call to her parents. Despite efforts by her family and police to find Jane, nothing has been heard from her since. Her mother says: “We want Jane to know that we love her and miss her very much…Pleas Jane, if you see this let us know you’re OK.” Jane is 5ft 3in tall and at the time of her disappearance was slim with dark shoulder length hair and brown highlights.

From the opening sentence of the article (“Rochester University student, Jane Rimer, disappeared on 16 April 2006.”), one nugget of information differentiates Jane from the other missing women. Considering that “Rochester University” is located in Rochester Hill, Michigan, Jane’s the only missing woman in the narrative whose disappearance doesn’t occur in England. As a result, it’s suggested that the themes of the album transcend borders and become relevant on a global scale. Despite the potential criticism of it boiling down to ‘first-world problems.’

But perspective returns to the fray as soon as the next sentence: “According to those that spoke to her in the days before, Jane seemed more distant and distracted than normal.” The instant that the word “seemed” appears, there’s the presence of the notion that the surface-level may not match the interior and that the interior mind of other people isn’t knowable. That unknowability is exacerbated by Jane’s state of conclusion, which renders testimony like that denoted by “those that spoke to her in the days before” rather suspect. As for the characterization of Jane’s existence in isolation, the phrase “more distant and distracted” points towards similar pitfalls to that of Sian and H. Moreover, the wording of “distracted” evokes connotations of extreme anxiety while also calling to mind Shakespeare—specifically, a particular stage direction ascribed to Ophelia as she enters her last scene in Hamlet.[1]

Familiar motifs bounce all about the next sentence: “Her parents had not heard from her in 2 weeks, but on that evening of the 16th at approximately 10:15pm, she phoned them using her mobile phone.” Just take “parents had not heard from her in two weeks” as an example since that points towards Jane deliberately cutting herself off from others—just like Sian, Teresa, and H. Following that comes the detail of the last known speaking occurring “on the evening of the 16th at approximately 10:15pm.” This speaking—in conjunction with the disappearance—evokes connotations of suicide or abduction. Additionally, it serves the same function that the letter does for “Happy Returns.”

More notions of perspective meander about within the following sentence: “During this conversation, they felt that Jane was not her usual self, like she had taken medication of some kind.” Namely that the feeling of the parents “that Jane was not here usual self” is made off of evaluating information that they cannot know for sure—they have been cut-off from Jane. While they can tell that such an isolation has invoked a decline in J, they can’t be sure about the nature of that decline. So with “medication of some kind,” the parents assume that drugs are involved in the decline due to the disparity between the Jane in-front of them and how they think Jane should be. Admittedly, drugs are in-line with H’s narrative (from Entry 24).

Connotations of isolation, the authorities, and technology are all present during the next pair of sentences: “The following day she failed to arrive for several classes at the university and her tutor called her mobile phone repeatedly, but each time it went straight to voicemail. When Jane did not show up again the following day, the police were alerted.” For anyone keeping score at home, “The following day” is April 17th, 2006. More pertinent info can be derived from “university.” From this, one can assume that Jane’s in her early-twenties, making her (apart from J) the youngest abductee addressed in the narrative. Abduction itself is denoted via the “mobile phone,” where it bears a similarity to how that piece of technology was presented with H in Entry 34. But in H’s case it was a sign of the extent of her isolation whereas with Jane, it’s an indicator that it’s too late to help Jane. Since H has read this article, one can infer that H interprets this detail as the Visitors having abducted J. And that abduction is done despite the fact that “the following day, the police were alerted.” Which isn’t a surprise, since that’s the second time the words “following day” have been used in this passage—meaning two days have passed. That’s the same length of time that the police took to respond in the Teresa Cavanagh case—so there’s the same connotations of incompetence and being outmatched.

The exact moment where technology shifts from innovative to eerie can be marked with the following duo of sentences: “Upon entering her room it was discovered that Jane’s passport was missing, but everything else including her credit cards and mobile phone were present. The phone had been switched off following the call to her parents.” Although the detail of missing passports and preserved credit cards/mobile phone are in-line with Sian’s account, the real kicker is dead ahead. And that’s the phrase stating that the “phone had been switched off following the call to her parents.” On one level, this facet’s chilling since it denotes that Jane doesn’t want to be found. But on another, it points to something other than abduction. That something else is a Richey Edwards-style[2] suicide where the body’s never found.

With all this in mind, one is now left to ponder the responses of the family over the course of the next couple of sentences: “Despite efforts by her family and police to find Jane, nothing has been heard from her since. Her mother says: “We want Jane to know that we love and miss her very much…Please Jane, if you see this let us know you’re OK.”” In general, this amounts to an emotional reaction in-keeping with the family members of both Sian and Teresa. That the ‘rule of three’ applies towards their reactions leaves one to assume that it’ll be no different with the family of H after the events of the narrative have elapsed. As for “efforts,” that word itself is undercut by the two-day wait—there was no ‘effort’ spent at the most crucial moment in terms of ensuring recovery. Ending the sentence is the phrase “we love her and miss her very much.” For whatever quantity the family loves Jane, love’s of as little use here as it was for the families of the other missing women.

One final physical description of Jane is left: “Jane is 5ft 3in tall and at the time of her disappearance was slim with dark shoulder length hair and brown highlights.” There’s two bits where Jane’s not matching Teresa in terms of physical appearance: “5ft 3in tall” and “dark shoulder length hair and brown highlights.” For the former, Jane’s three inches shorter than Teresa and H. As for the latter, Teresa was (in comparison) “of medium build with light brown hair.” Both are probably squabbling nitpicky qualities, but both also entail that the Visitors aren’t so picky on who they choose to abduct.

Sian Preston

Sian Preston has been missing since June 2002. It is unknown on exactly which date she disappeared since she lived alone at a flat in Wood Green and had few social interactions with her family and friends. After several final demands for payment of energy bills went unpaid, bailiffs obtained access to her flat and found everything intact, but found no evidence that Sian had been inside for several months. Her passport had been taken, leading to speculation that she may have left the country.

A significant amount of pertinent information’s embedded inside the opening duet of sentences: “Sian Preston has been missing since June 2002. It is unknown on exactly which date she disappeared since she lived alone at a flat in Wood Green and had few social interactions with her family and friends.” The date of “June 2002” is more important than it looks since it falls roughly in-between March 2001 and December 2003. That span of time isn’t trivial since it’s the time that passed between Joyce Carol Vincent entering a domestic abuse shelter and her death. During that time, Joyce cut herself off from her family. But things are muddier for Sian than any neat chronology can know. That much is evident from “unknown on exactly which date,” a phrase that’s applicable to Teresa’s disappearance and will likely be how the public perceives H’s vanishing act. Another parallel to Joyce Carol Vincent’s case comes from the mention of “a flat in Wood Green,” which corresponds (down to the type of housing unit) where Joyce’s corpse was found in January 2006. All of these people—Joyce, Sian, Teresa, Jane, H, and Madeline—share the common trait that they “lived alone” at the time of their disappearances/deaths.

Further connections to the Joyce Carol Vincent case are nestled within the following run-on: “After several final demands for payment of energy bills went unpaid, bailiffs obtained access to her flat and found everything intact, but no evidence that Sian had been inside the flat for several months.” Bailiffs and debtors did indeed “obtain access to her flat” in the case of Joyce—only it was due to unpaid rent, not energy bills like with Sian. But that’s only a mild subversion of expectation compared to that found in the phrase “no evidence that Sian had been inside the flat for several months.” Here, the lack of a corpse in the location serves as Steven (liner notes credit him with writing these articles) knowing the expectations of the audience and confounding them.

Now that the path has diverted away from the Joyce Carol Vincent scenario, there’s still further details at play during the next sentence: “Her passport had been taken, leading to speculation that she may have left the country.” For instance, the tidbit that “Her passport had been taken” is one which likely leads H to think Sian was taken by the Visitors—presented via a common hallmark among a couple of the other missing women. Then there’s the deliberate word-choice of “speculation” since the idea that Sian left the country isn’t knowable for sure, but is instead a suggestion of what may have happened. Even the diction reflects the idea of an unknowable truth.

Sian suffered from depression, and had progressively isolated herself from her family and those that knew her over the last 2 years. Her last employment had ended 3 months prior to her disappearance and she had been claiming unemployment benefit. With no proof that she is either alive or dead, detectives have described the case as “a mystery.”

Mental illness mixes itself into the brew as early as the next sentence: “Sian suffered from depression, and had progressively isolated herself from her family and those that knew her over the last 2 years.” One minor note stems from “over the last two years”—how that’s an even shorter time than it took for H to disappear. But the meat-and-potatoes of discussion’s definitely the mention of “depression.” With that one word, readers/listeners are left to wonder how much H’s behaviors resemble a person prone to extreme bouts of depression.

Further diversions from both H and Joyce Carol Vincent pop up over the duration of the following sentences: “Her last employment had ended 3 months prior to her disappearance and she had been claiming unemployment benefit. With no proof that she is either alive or dead, detectives have described the case as “a mystery.”” One should contrast the detail that Sian’s “last employment had ended 3 months prior to her disappearance” with how H approaches work. The lack of importance placed on H’s job (it’s only mentioned once) leaves one to assume that H also left her job—and that the job didn’t matter to H at all. Another point of divergence from H and Joyce pops up in the phrase “claiming unemployment benefit” since that’s not what happened with those two at all. While H explicitly mentions having “trouble with the bills” (in “Happy Returns”), the debtors were the ones that eventually discovered Joyce’s corpse. All things considered, “mystery” proves an apt word for Sian—and will also be how the general public deems H’s scenario after the events of the album.

Sian’s brother Joe Preston said his sister did not have many friends, but was deeply loved by her family despite their estrangement. "She always wanted to be a professional singer, and worked really hard to make it happen, but she got so disillusioned after she went to live in London. She found it much harder than she expected to get noticed, and she changed as a person, became very disappointed with her life and cut herself off from the people that cared about her.”

The information bundled to the next sentence (“Sian’s brother Joe Preston said that his sister did not have many friends, but was deeply loved by her family despite her estrangement.”) retroactively renders aspects of H’s story even more depressing. From just the phrase “deeply loved by her family despite her estrangement,” one gets the sense that if H had reached out, she’d have been accepted with open arms. But H had a state of self-sabotage that—if it even permitted recovery—would unravel every inch of progress. All of that coheres with the word “brother,” where the dramatic situation behind “Happy Returns” is mirrored right down to the exact family member. That coherence renders “Happy Returns” sadder in hindsight. Especially since that song entails that H (by writing the letter) did attempt to reach out, but too late to make any difference.

It’s not insignificant that there’s a connection towards someone other than the missing women during the next sentence: ““She always wanted to be a professional singer, and worked really hard to make it happen, but she got so disillusioned after she went to live in London.”” Judging from “professional singer,” that other person is Steven Wilson himself—a link made by the common thread of the arts. If it’s Steven, then it’s an acknowledgement of a point similar to one he raised (in an interview for Romanian TV filmed in July 2018): “I think I got in the musical window at the last possible moment that I could.” That’s relevant since—by implying that Steven wouldn’t have made it if he came a generation later—the narrative of H and the story of Joyce Carol Vincent are how Steven fears he would’ve ended up if he were born one generation later. In that sense, Steven’s implicating himself as a would-be victim of being “disillusioned” within “London.” Because if Steven were born one generation later, he’d have been a child of the 90s instead of the 70s and 80s—he’d have experienced the technological leap into the Internet before his career began.

As for the last words spoken by Joe Preston in the article (““She found it much harder than she expected to get noticed, and she changed as a person, became very disappointed with her life and cut herself off from the people that cared about her.””), they reinforce part of Steven’s quote, illustrate Sian’s development, and depict behavior akin to that of H. That Sian “found it much harder than she expected to get noticed” does reinforce Steven’s potential self-implication serves to temper a point raised by a quote of Steven’s from much earlier in his career (namely the Stupid Dream era of Porcupine Tree):

“When I was writing some of the songs of the album I was very much aware of this contradiction between being an artist, being a musician, trying to be creative and write songs and, then, at the point you finish an album, the music is finished, the creative side is finished, you then have to go out and sell and market and promote. And that's like a completely different experience. It's not a very creative process. It's quite—in some ways—a cynical process going on having to sell your music. But you have to do it. I mean, if a modern musician is going to survive as a musician, you have to—in a sense—‘prostitute yourself' to try and sell your music and your art. And I was very much aware of that contradiction. If you think about that too much, it can drive you crazy, you know. It's an absurd thing to be doing. That kind of led me thinking about when I was a teenager, when I was just starting out and I was interested in being a musician. And I think a lot of teenage kids have this dream of being pop stars, of being a professional musician. This 'stupid dream' of being famous and 'life is a ball and everything is wonderful'. And, of course, actually the reality is that being a professional musician is a very hard work. It can be very heartbreaking, there's a lot of disappointment, there's a lot of hard work, there's a lot of travelling.”

Steven’s arguments regarding the intersection between commerce and art are (in his eyes) tempered by the isolation of the big city in the modern world. Namely because it means that the same methods which Steven used in the late 90s and early 2000s no longer work. In that case, there’s little wonder that the phrase “changed as a person” presents an example of character regression since Steven thinks if he were in the same shoes, he’d regress just the same. And as “cut herself off from the people that cared about her” conveys, that’s also the same behavior exhibited by H.

Madeline Hearne

As stated elsewhere, Madeline Hearne occupies a central piece of the puzzle behind Hand. Cannot. Erase. That she’s the one missing woman who has their story related in one of the songs of the album (“Routine”) indicates that H took a particular interest in her story. While I previously (see Entry 38 from Part One) stated that both Madeline and H have lost family members, the manner in which Madeline lost her family was something I’ve kept under wraps…until now:

These two pieces of info—the left being a screenshot taken 7 minutes and 8 seconds into the music video/short film for “Routine” and the right being a newspaper clipping found among the Deluxe Edition materials—involve the same event. That event is that Madeline’s husband (a teacher) and her two sons (students) were (among many others) gunned down in a school shooting.

A deep dive into each of these articles reveals hidden thematic intricacies, so sit back and relax…this one’s going to be heavy.

A: Music Video Screencap

Headline: FATHER AND TWO SONS KILLED IN SCHOOL SHOOTING

Local teacher and his two sons, also students at the school were killed in the horrific school shooting that took place yesterday. While many were killed in the tragedy, the deaths of the father and and children leaves behind a distraught mother who has been unavailable for comment.

Unlike the other article, this one’s relatively brief. Its brevity can denote sensationalist coverage or a lack of information on a still-recent topic. Either way, it’s thematic linkage—whether to the notion of ‘incident’ or to the limitations of knowledge.

As for some of the word choice in the article itself, there’s some details worth poring over. For starters, the phrase “Local teacher” does something that the other article doesn’t. And that’s directly identify that Madeline’s husband was a teacher at the school where the school shooting occurred.

But of greater significance is one word: “yesterday.” Considering that the other article dated the shooting as having happened on “Wednesday 5th February 1992,” this newspaper was issued on Thursday 6th February 1992. Curiously, the other article was published on “Friday 17th September 1993,” leaving open the idea that the music video and lyrics for “Routine” transpire anywhere between February 1992 and September 1993. But the song can’t occur much further than September 1993 because of this clipping found in the Deluxe Edition:

B: Deluxe Edition Article

Hetherington Examiner Friday 17th September 1993

A STOLEN FAMILY

By Victoria Tyler, Features Editor

It was a bitterly cold morning on morning on Wednesday 5th February 1992, when at 8.45am the usual traffic began arriving at the school gates in Beechfield Road in the coastal town of Hetherington.

The grass around the primary school was covered with a thin layer of frost and snow. For those in the small town who walked to school, they would have been hunched up in heavy coats.

There was the usual gathering of parents exchanging school-gate conversation and the noise of their small sons and daughters breaking into a run towards the playground as the nine o’clock bell beckoned.

As the children began to wave goodbye to their parents and enter the school unemployed taxi driver Keith Campbell approached the school gates.

Had anyone glanced in his direction they would have seen him wearing what looked like hi-tech earmuffs, but few would have recognised them as ear protectors used to deaden the noise of a gun firing. The time was 8.53am. By 8.54am 15 children, 6 parents and the gunmen were dead. 8 more children and 2 adults died in hospital of their injuries.

The parents had died trying to protect their children. The survivors would be haunted by the events forever.

But one mother had no opportunity to protect her children. Madeline Hearne lived with her family in a remote house on the outskirts of Hetherington, overlooking the sea. At the time of the massacre, she was at home clearing the breakfast table, making the beds, and about to start cleaning the house. Just after 10am a neighbour knocked on her door to say there had been some kind of incident at the school.

Her first thoughts were that if something serious had happened, someone would have contacted her. She accepted a lift to the school anyway, but didn’t feel overly worried. It was only when she saw roadblocks, flashing blue lights, wailing sirens, TV cameras and hundreds of people standing around, that she started to panic.

‘I realised that this was something pretty serious,’ she said. ‘There’s more than 400 pupils at the school. I asked myself what are the chances of my family being involved? But when I couldn’t find my husband, I started to have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach’

The parents were directed to a hotel, but told nothing. At 12.30pm they were taken in minibuses to the school. One group of parents was called away, leaving others including Madeline in the assembly hall, wondering whether they were the lucky ones.

By 2pm, some five hours after the incident, she still did not know whether her sons were alive, permanently disabled or dead. A short while later, the parents were each taken to a separate classroom. Madeline was told that both her sons and her husband had been murdered. In the space of 60 seconds the gunman had stolen her whole family from her.

‘I didn’t understand, the words just had no meaning to me, I think I said to the police officer I couldn’t really wait any longer, I had to get home, I had things to do. He told me to wait until they got a car and someone to come home with me. But I shouted at him that I had already been waiting for five hours. I didn’t want a car. I would walk. He put his hand on my arm and I shouted at him to get off me.’

‘Then I felt awful and started apologising to him. During the 20-minute walk home my thoughts were irrational. I was feeling guilty for shouting at the policeman.’

‘I went home and carried on my routine of making the beds, laying the table, and cleaning the house, as if nothing had happened.’

In the days that followed Madeline was visited by a succession of police counsellors and journalists. She refused to open the door to any of them and continued to ready the house as if her family would be returning at any moment. Grief councillors admit that often the survivors of…

Immediately, the opening sentence (“It was a bitterly cold morning on Wednesday 5th February 1992, when at 8:45am the usual traffic began arriving at the school gates in Beechfield Road in the coastal town of Hetherington.”) serves up an ample display of symbolism, dates paralleling historical events, and British geography. First, there’s the phrase “bitterly cold”—which describes the tone of what’s about to happen, evokes comparisons to James Joyce’s “The Dead” (the last short story of Dubliners, a book Steven claims left a profound influence on him), and serves as an omen of death. Second, there’s “5th February 1992,” the date of the jury selection for the Rodney King case—probably a coincidence, but one which suggests that an act of injustice is about to transpire.

Lastly, the name “Hetherington” is one that’s derived (linguistically) from Old English word elements. One of which (tūn ("farmstead", "settlement")) remains relevant towards the outdoor imagery in the music video (depicting Madeline) for Routine. Also, Hetherington is part of Northumberland, which—with sixty-two people per square kilometer—is England’s least densely-populated county. That geographical detail informs us that while Northumberland offers Madeline isolation, it’s of a different vein than that of the other missing women.

Of all that was detailed in the opening sentence, it’s the Joyce symbolism that’s most pertinent towards the next triad of sentences: “The grass around the primary school was covered with a thin layer of frost and snow. For those in the small town who walked to school, they would have been hunched up in heavy coats. There was the usual gathering of parents exchanging school-gate conversation and the noise of their small sons and daughters breaking into a run towards the playground as the nine o'clock bell beckoned.” That aforementioned symbolism also ties into the use of the “bell,” an image that (in this context) takes on a sinister air akin to the phrase ‘for whom the bell tolls’—an omen of impending death. Such an ominous sense of doom also factors into the image of the “thin layer of frost and snow,” where it’s now linked to the Joycean symbolism of winter as an omen of death. Which stands in stark contrast to the description of “usual.” This contrast indicates that the routine of parents dropping their children off to school is one that’s about to be shattered violently and irrevocably.

It’s only fitting that the symbolism regarding death is immediately followed by the introduction of our monster during the next sentence: “As the children began to wave goodbye to their parents and enter the school, unemployed taxi driver Keith Campbell approached the school gates.” But first, the word “began” entails that the art of saying goodbye’s a long process—which isn’t usually the case, but this line’s written with a self-awareness of the tragedy that’s about to unfold. Now for the gunman being an “unemployed taxi driver,” that creates a loose connection with H towards the first line of “My Book of Regrets,” but that image is now in a darker context that may be a mild homage to Martin Scorcese’s 1976 movie Taxi Driver. However, the shoot-out at the end of that film—where Travis Bickle guns down a cadre of criminals—can be construed as vaguely heroic. In contrast, there’s nothing remotely heroic about someone shooting down children in cold blood. Speaking of the shooter, his name (“Keith Campbell”) isn’t insignificant. Because a man named Keith Henry Stockman Campbell (1954-2012) was a British biologist who part of the group of scientists that brought the cloned sheep known as Dolly into the world—an irony given what the Keith in the article does.

That the description of the shooting itself can be described as anticlimax is a point to address regarding the following trio of sentences: “Had anyone glanced in his direction they would have seen him wearing what looked like hi-tech earmuffs, but few would have recognised them as ear protectors used to deaden the noise of a gun. The time was 8:53am. By 8:54am 15 children, 6 parents and the gunmen were dead. 8 more children and 2 adults died in the hospital of their injuries.” All the reader gets is the basic facts that “15 children, 6 parents and the gunmen were dead. 8 more children and 2 adults died in the hospital of their injuries.” Mathematically breaking it down to 32 deaths makes things sound as clinical as calling it an ‘incident,’ but the lack of description regarding how it felt to be in that scene leaves the event unimaginable. It also raises the question of how does one depict something like that in writing/art and make it an accurate representation. That’s not even going into the detail of “few would have recognised them as ear protectors used to deaden the noise of a gun” and how that suggests that Keith had either inside knowledge of gun culture or was ex-military with PTSD. Neither is the type of gun used by Keith even specified, but it’s probably a fast one since 32 deaths in one minute is a rate of 1.06 deaths every second.

With two simple sentences (“The parents had died trying to protect their children. The survivors would be haunted by the events forever.”), there’s so much stated by what’s unsaid. For instance, the word “trying” entails either that the dead parents aren’t those of the children that died or that their attempt to “protect their children” failed—leaving both parent and child dead. But the word “survivors” is thrown about in a manner that suggest that surviving such a horrific event is an accomplishment. In reality, it’s down to blind luck and the hand of a monster whether one lives or dies—since Keith didn’t know these kids, he probably selected the ones that died on a whim. In a way, Keith’s name is apt. By taking the lives of children, he’s playing the role of a cruel deity—much like the biologist of the same name was met with claims of ‘playing God’ upon the cloning of Dolly. Finally, the diction of “haunted” paints trauma as a spectral presence, a concept not far-removed from the themes of The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories).

Following such a horrific scene, readers/listeners are transported off to a new one via the next quartet of sentences: “But one mother had no opportunity to protect her children. Madeline Hearne lived with her family in a remote home on the outskirts of Hetherington, overlooking the sea. At the time of the massacre, she was at home clearing the breakfast table, making the beds, and about to start cleaning the house. Just after 10am a neighbour knocked on her door to say that there had been some kind of incident at the school.” From the get-go, it’s clear that the phrase “one mother had no opportunity to protect her children” attempt to paint this as a lamentable fate for Madeline. This segues into the sentence that reads “Madeline Hearne lived with her family in a remote home on the outskirts of Hetherington, overlooking the sea,” where there’s textual parallels to the imagery that’s depicted visually in the outdoor scenes of the music video for “Routine.” As for the phrase “some kind of incident,” that’s the same detached wording of life-shattering events which Steven critiqued on the final Porcupine Tree album (2009’s The Incident). In fact, this story would fit right-at-home on that album. Furthermore, to apply “some kind of” to an “incident” suggests that unless one experiences it or witnesses the result, one can’t accurately imagine the event itself—only the trauma which results from the event.

During the next trio of sentences (“Her first-thoughts were that if something serious had happened, someone would have contacted her. She accepted a lift to the school, but didn't feel overly worried. It was only when she saw roadblocks, flashing blue lights, wailing sirens, TV cameras and hundreds of people standing around, that she started to panic.”), rationality continues to be debunked. For instance, there’s the assumption that’s nestled inside the phrase “if something serious had happened, someone would have contacted her”—that people operate rationally whilst in a panic, a folly. As for the fact that Madeline “accepted a lift to the school, but didn’t feel overly worried,” that ties back into the notion behind the wording of “some kind of” since Madeline likely feels as though everything’s hunky-dory. So much so that she can’t imagine how it could’ve gone wrong. At least until the long sentence of “It was only when she saw roadblocks, flashing blue lights, wailing sirens, TV cameras and hundreds of people standing around that she started to panic,” where a sense of dread emerges that becomes tangible over the course of the next few passages.

Once Madeline’s own voice emerges (“‘I realised that this was something pretty serious,’ she says. ‘There's more than 400 pupils at the school. I asked myself what are the chances of my family being involved? But when I couldn't find my husband, I started to have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.’”), some questions are likely to be raised from what she utters. On one hand, the fact that Madeline speaks at all contradicts the statement from the other article that she’s “unavailable for comment”—until you consider that this paper was printed at a later date than the other one. As for what Madeline herself says, there’s the phrase “‘I realised that this was something pretty serious,’” an incredible understatement denoting that the full weight of the scenario hasn’t registered in Madeline’s mind yet since there’s room for her to ask questions. One unanswered question leads to her playing the numbers game with the “400 pupils at the school” and then going into a mode of denial by asking “what are the chances of my family being involved?” But another response to the unknown is highlighted by the sentence “But when I couldn’t find my husband, I started to have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.” Here, the sense of dread experienced by Madeline does—in a morbid sense—constitute the phrase ‘hand cannot erase’ since evidence of the husband’s corpse hasn’t been wiped from the face of the earth.

Some striking elements are derivable from the descriptions baked into the next set of sentences: “The parents were directed to a hotel, but told nothing. At 12:30pm they were taken in minibuses to the school. One group of parents was called away, leaving others including Madeline in the assembly hall, wondering whether they were the lucky ones.” First of all, there’s the procedure stating that “The parents were directed to a hotel, but told nothing.” While one can construe that as being cautious (as to not disturb the scene of the crime), there’s dimensions of cruelty due to prolonging the anxiety on whether those involved have lost family members and of incompetence due to letting that anxiety fester. The fact that “One group of parents was called away, leaving others including Madeline in the assembly hall, wondering whether they were the lucky ones” highlights that poor communication enabled this “wonder” to happen in the first place. Sure, the shooting still occurred. But perhaps by not letting the anxiety fester, the blow could’ve potentially been softened—if only by a miniscule amount.

That festering anxiety factors directly into the next duet of sentences: “By 2pm, some five hours after the incident, she still did not know whether her sons were alive, permanently disabled or dead. A short while later, the parents were each taken to a separate classroom, Madeline was told that both her sons and her husband had been murdered.” A case-in-point exhibits itself via the first sentence (“By 2pm, some five hours after the incident, she still did not know whether her sons were alive, permanently disabled or dead”), wherein the main culprits behind the festering of anxiety are thoroughness and incompetence. Additionally, the slightly-problematic wording of “permanently disabled” would’ve flown in 1992, but probably wouldn’t in a 2015 newspaper. As for the kicker of the phrase “each taken to a separate classroom,” this does allow some privacy to be administered at the moment the parents are told the unfortunate news. However, “classroom” serves as a darkly-ironic word since a classroom’s also where Madeline’s loved one’s died. So now, it’s where Madeline dies a little inside upon learning the news.

One specific element embedded into the next sentence (“In the space of 60 seconds the gunman had stolen her whole family from her.”) is rife with loaded implications: the word “stolen.” First off, it points towards the children and/or husband being possessions, a problematic notion for two reasons: it entails that the gunman ‘freed’ them by killing them and it’s the type of wording that a sexist would use to portray Madeline as an overly-controlling ‘shrew.’ Secondly, the word “stolen” suggests that the shooting was an unfortunate ‘accident’ and that people are ‘owed’ a full life with family by their side—another two-fold problematic idea. Because ‘accident’ registers as problematic with the advent of mass shootings in the US during the mid-to-late 2010’s—and the continued refusal to do anything meaningful to prevent them. And ‘owed’ has unfortunate implications since it conveys the notion that the ideal of every person keeping their family is the common reality. In doing so, it ostracizes people who have lost family members as victims of isolated incidents. However, instances of mass shootings, genocides, and other atrocities with a pattern of prolonged premeditated cruelty and/or ignorance are not isolated incidents. To claim otherwise insults the memories and intelligence of the people who died.

As Madeline’s monologue continues (“‘I didn't understand, the words just had no meaning to me, I think I said to the police officer I couldn't really wait any longer, I had to get home, I had things to do. He told me to wait until they got a car and someone to come home with me.’”), there’s an incredible amount of perspective-driven information to be ascertained from her words. For starters, Madeline’s first phrase (“I didn’t understand, the words just had no meaning to me.”) contains (at least) two interpretations. First, that Madeline (in her dread) suspected in the back of her mind that her husband and sons didn’t survive. In this scenario, “the words” were meaningless insofar as they conveyed nothing she didn’t have an inkling of already. Second (and more likely), this phrase connotes a heavy state of denial in response to the news. For this, “to me” is important insofar as it conveys that her state of shock’s indebted to perspective. One result of that state of shock derives from the word “think” and how it denotes that Madeline’s paraphrasing what she “said to the police officer.” Because of this, the fact that this isn’t a 1:1 recreation of what she said (something which the distortion of memory renders impossible) can lead one to construe that Madeline (like H) is an unreliable narrator. That this gets followed up by Madeline stating that she “had to get home” because she “had things to do” sets in-place the practice of routine as a coping mechanism—avoiding dealing with the problems since the reality’s too horrible for her to bear.

The second part of Madeline’s monologue (“‘But I shouted at him that I had already been waiting for five hours. I didn't want a car. I would walk. He put his hand on my arm and I shouted at him to get off me.’”) isn’t insignificant. How it starts with the phrase “But I shouted at him that I had already been waiting for five hours” presents an indicator of truth (the “five hours”) and makes one wonder if telling Madeline the news the instant that the police knew would’ve softened the blow. What’s more pertinent stems from the phrase “He put his hand on my arm and I shouted at him to get off me” and how perspective matters in this instance. Here, the officer feels like he’s doing his job calming down a somewhat-unruly citizen while Madeline feels like her autonomy’s being impugned.

Madeline’s next actions (“‘Then I felt awful and started apologising to him. During the 20-minute walk home my thoughts were irrational. I was feeling guilty for shouting at the policeman.’”) display the failure of logic in few words. That much is evident from the statement that Madeline “felt awful and started apologising to him.” Sine that’s an about-face of action that’s indicative of a heightened emotional state—something that would arise if a non-sociopath were placed in Madeline’s shoes. As such the fact that Madeline “was feeling guilty for shouting at the policeman” reads as an instance of Madeline psychologically tearing herself apart over miniscule things which seem (at that moment) of the utmost significance.

Perhaps the most vital bit of context stems from the next sentence: “‘I went home and carried on my routine of making the beds, laying the table, and cleaning the house, as if nothing had happened.’” These descriptions of “making the beds, laying the table, and cleaning the house” provides a chunk of the language utilized in “Routine.” Since the motivation for Madeline’s “routine” isn’t directly stated in the lyrics to “Routine,” the song’s an instance where outside sources (namely the music video and the Deluxe Edition materials) complete the song. And for completion purposes, the phrase “as if nothing had happened” are the crucial words which fuel that song. From those five words, one can imply that Madeline acts as though the shooting never occurred because she’s in an intense state of denial regarding the news. Although the quotes given by Madeline in this article suggest that she did improve at some point.

Despite the added clarity from the previous sentence, the final three sentences of the article (“In the days that followed Madeline was visited by a succession of police counsellors and journalists. She refused to open the door to any of them and continued to ready the house as if her family would be returning at any moment. Grief councillors admit that often the survivors of...”) offer as many questions as they offer answers. For example, the phrase “In the days that followed Madeline was visited by a succession of police consellors and jounalists” presents details which aren’t depicted in the music video, leaving one to wonder how long does the music video occur after the school shooting. But an answer appears where one least expects it: “Grief councillors admit that often the survivors of…” Although the ellipses entails that the article continues, the continuation’s kept away from the reader. However, that continuation’s unnecessary since what it may say—info about coping mechanisms—are given a visual example via Madeline’s behaviors in the music video for “Routine.”

Content from Deluxe Edition pages

Although I don’t own a copy of the Deluxe Edition of Hand. Cannot. Erase. (and because they were only in print for a limited run, they’re now sold for ludicrously-high prices), I entered a Discord server dedicated to uncovering the album’s mystery. Through that server, I managed to find photocopied excerpts of the Deluxe Edition pages that I thought warranted analysis. These elements are divided into four segments: the pages from H’s handbook, documentation regarding H, a slew of surrealist artwork, and writings that wholesale reprint some of the album lyrics.

A: Handbook Pages (6 in total) (teenager's diary and illustrations credited in liner notes to "Willow Beggs," wife of Nick Beggs (Steven's bassist since 2011))

Page 1 (Front Cover)

First things first, there’s the artwork of the front-cover of H’s teenage handbook. There’s the visible skull design that’s been cut-out from the front of a book (from the quotes in the text, that book is Suzanne Collins’ Mockingjay). Additionally, the fact that the book’s been painted over with black paint imbues the front cover with the illusion of a worn leather-bound handbook. All of that imagery (especially the skull) connotes H’s obsessions with death, the unknown, and the supernatural in a succinct manner.

A subtler detail stems from making out words in the page of the book in which the handbook is created from. Part of the following quote can be discerned from the page:

“But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.” – Suzanne Collins—Mockingjay (The Hunger Games book three), chapter twenty-seven.

Within the context of H’s narrative, that particular quote is apt in two senses. First, the folly of “collective thinking” is partially why H isolates herself. Second, the “great gift for self-destruction” and “poor memories” are—while misanthropic—qualities which H embodies more-and-more as she declines.

Pages 2 & 3

Considering that two pages are being dealt with here, it’s best to tackle them with artwork (pages two and three, followed by the text (page two and three). As for the artwork, there’s elements to be derived from the left, the top-right, the middle-right, and the bottom-right of page two—in addition to (for page three) components worth picking art on the mid-left, the bottom-left, the mid-right, and the bottom-right.

Regarding the primary artwork on the left of page two, there’s a mixture of purple, pink, and black tints with the phrase “Death is only the beginin’” printed on it. A response to the front-cover, but the quote itself (with 'beginning' rendered in what's presumably a local dialect) works in an ironic sense considering two things. First, there’s the matter of Steven Wilson's staunch atheism—so much so that he’s quoted as saying (when asked what he thinks happens after death) “Nothing. We live a life and that's it.” Probably can't get more of a contrast between that and “Death is only the beginning.” But this is also ironic in conjunction with H, since one can entail that her insanity amounts to a figurative death along with the perceived abduction of J.

One element that potentially creates a continuity snarl is the date “Saturday 14th Sept” in the top-right of page two. While the lack of a year seems to render this indefinite, the context clues of “When I was thirteen, I had a sister for six months” and Entry 1 falling on H's thirtieth birthday (8th October 2008) makes things seemingly easier to trace. On one hand, those details can suggest that this entry was written in 1992—where H is one month away from turning fourteen. On the other hand, September 14th fell on a Monday in 1992, rendering the act of pinning down dates in the handbook a pointless exercise.

Over to the middle-right of the second page, there’s a yellow-tinted drawing of a Kate Bush album cover. There is a bit of autobiography here since Steven's a die-hard Kate Bush fan. Enough to say that the opportunity to remix one of her albums or to collaborate with her would be a dream-come-true (although highly unlikely). Judging from the resemblance, the album cover sketched out is Kate's 2005 album Aerial, which was (as her first album in twelve years) considered a comeback’ album at the time of release. But the year 2005 hasn’t occurred yet at the time of this handbook entry, rendering the sketch an anachronism. Additionally, the entry itself has H mention a track from a different Kate Bush album.

Down at the bottom-right of page two, there’s a set of drawings that include a crude drawing of a book with "KAFKA" written over it, an arrow pointing to said book, and stick-figure sketches of two girls who appear to be twins. The twins are by far the most-illuminating detail since (if that's the case) that makes the adoption entailed by the lyrics of "Perfect Life" impossible. Unless if J is imagined by H.

Now for page three, whose mid-left side contains a sketch of a blue-colored book being set on fire whilst surrounded by smoke—an image complementing the discussion on Kafka while thematically connecting to the notion of self-sabotage. Down at the bottom left, there’s more of the swirls (previously seen from the top-right of page two)—only now, they seem the mirror the motion of H rolling her eyes at her parents while they argue between each other. As for the mid-right sketch of a stereotypical Halloween ghost, that indicates that H has had contact with the Visitors as far back as her adolescent years—even though she wasn't sure that they were aliens at first. Finally, there’s the rain droplets on the bottom-right, a visual depiction of what she’s seeing during the scene she’s set in the handbook page.

In case the text of pages two and three of the handbook comes across as illegible due to H’s handwriting, a transcript is presented below (most of H's misspellings have been removed due to the lack of a strikethrough effect in Wix editor):

Saturday 14th Sept.

Went to Camden with J. today. D would never have let me go in normal circumstances, but M wanted to get back at him for something I think. Took the train up to Euston and then the underground to Camden. Didn’t know that the Grand Union runs through Camden too! Weird to think we could have walked home along the canal, though I guess it would have taken all day to do it. J. bought me a Kate Bush album, havn’t listened to it yet, but I love the title and Dream of Sheep. She also bought a book by a writer called Kafka, and we read some of on the way back on the train. Apparently he never finished it and didn’t want the book published at all, and he asked his friend to burn all his papers after he died, but the friend couldn’t do it so now he’s kind of famous. Makes you wonder how many other Great novels have Been written but have never heard, read or seen by anyone, thats real (pure!) art when you only do it for yourself and you don’t want anyone els to experience it. It’s just big headed to want to show what you do to other people. When we got back M+D weren't speaking again, they have a big argument, but I don't think it was about us going to Camden they didn't mention it. Reminds me of that time I ran away, but this time I don’t think they would have even noticed if I had they were really worried and angry with me that time. Not good. Thank God I have J. She toled me her ghost story, swears it’s true, made me feel a bit spooked, had to listen to her Prefab Sprout tape to clear the atmosphere. They promised me they aren’t ghosts.

Sunday 6th Oct

It’s been raining the whole day long, everything is wet and grey outside, and this weekend J. has gone to visit a friend she knows from the home. So I’ve been doing nothing but staring out of the window watching the rain drops make puddles. Something a bit strange happened yesterday, it was sunny, so I went down to the canal and watched people operating the locks.

From this hefty block of text, there’s no dearth of information to deal with, so an analysis should take at this piece-by-piece. Or sentence-by-sentence.

Introductory matters commence via the sentence: “Went to Camden with J. today.” Right off the bat, British geography is invoked by the mention of “Camden,” (short for Camden Town, not the town of Camden, New Jersey). This just happens to be a town that—while dating back to 1791—has had its economic base substituted with industries related to retail, tourism, and entertainment over the passage of time—with street markets and music venues currently having a strong association with alternative culture. All of that makes Camden a living example of the economic developments that hang over H’s entire life. Coincidently enough, this town is also where Charles Dickens (himself a one-time resident) placed many of his characters: most notably Bon Cratchit’s family (A Christmas Carol (1843)) and the Micawbers (David Copperfield (1850)).

Perhaps the comparison to Dickensian matters was an apt one since the next sentence (“D would never have let me go in normal circumstances, but M wanted to get back at him for something I think.”) suggests some dismal topics. And from “in normal circumstances,” we get the feeling that something’s already wrong, that H has an inkling of it, but (like Bob Dylan’s Mr. Jones) doesn’t know what it is.[3] In this regard, the phrase “wanted to get back at him for something” is one where the reader knows more about what’s happening than H does—we’re the ones that can see that cracks are showing in the marriage of H’s parents. That they show at all indicates that H’s parents aren’t made-up people (even if J might be). But the phrase “I think” does leave open the idea that H is wrong about Mom wanting payback.

More British geography coats the sentence that reads “Took the train up to Euston and then the underground to Camden.” From here, “Euston” is a village/civil parish tucked in the St. Edmundsbury district of Suffolk in eastern England. As for the “underground,” the distance between Euston and Camden is (according to Google Maps) a five-minute train ride.

Although I’m sure the next sentence (“Didn’t know that the Grand Union runs through Camden too!”) is little more than exposition, that’s not the case with the one afterwards: “Weird to think we could have walked home along the canal, though I guess it would have taken all day to do it.” Assuming that the home of H and J is situated in Hemel Hempstead (Steven’s hometown), then they’re not wrong about it taking “all day to do it.” Because (consulting Google Maps again), the distance between Hemel Hempstead and the Grand Union Canal is 11 hours and 55 minutes (a walk of 36.4 miles) one-way there. Meaning that going from there and back would take 23 hours and 50 minutes—literally a full day.

On the topic of something other than British geography, in comes the next sentence: “J. bought me a Kate Bush album, havn't listened to it yet, but I love the title and Dream of Sheep.” Judging from the phrase “J. bought me,” there’s a point to raise if J’s not real—she’s likely a persona constructed by H’s imagination, meaning that H really bought the record. A record that although H states that she hasn’t “listened to it yet,” that same statement’s contradicted in the span of less than a sentence. Other details don’t fully stack up since “the title” (if one goes by the image in the handbook) of the album is Aerial (from 2005). However, “and Dream of Sheep” is a phrase which name-drops a track from her 1985 album Hounds of Love—an album often deemed her masterpiece. Furthermore, “And Dream of Sheep” inaugurates the conceptual piece (titled “The Ninth Wave”) that occupies all of Side Two—all about a person drifting alone in the sea at night. That image can mirror the state of H’s existence drifting through life—especially in her adult years.

Another allusion that’s startlingly-relevant rears its ugly head in the next sentence: “She also bought a book by a writer called Kafka, and we read some of on the way back on the train.” Although Franz Kafka[4] has been referred to in the narrative before (see Entry 1), the reason why Kafka’s relevant to the narrative of H hasn’t. Considering that the word ‘Kafkaesque’ has been coined to describe complex yet illogical (due to bureaucracy) situations, one can suggest that H’s life—especially in adulthood—amounts to a Kafkaesque. As for the book in question, the reference to “Josef K” in Entry 1 indicates that the book is 1925’s The Trial.

Continuing on the topic of Kafka, there’s the next sentence: “Apparently he never finished it and didn't want the book published at all, and he asked his friend to burn all his papers after he died, but the friend couldn't do it so now he's kind of famous.” Within this sentence is the statement that Kafka “asked his friend to burn all his papers after he died, but the friend couldn’t do it,” a claim that’s debatable. In fact, Max Brod (the name of this friend) was once asked why he didn’t burn the papers, to which he justified his refusal by stating that when Kafka asked him to do so, Max flat-out told him he would not carry out this wish: “Franz should have appointed another executor if he had been absolutely and finally determined that his instructions should stand.” Some have claimed that Kafka's command to Max was a test of Max's character/friendship—suggesting that a true friend wouldn't burn the books even when told to.

Then there’s the comment H makes consisting of the following: “Makes you wonder how many other Great novels have Been written but have never heard, read or seen by anyone.” Apart from the obvious answer—any and all books that were destroyed with the Library of Alexandria—there’s a connection with the outright unknowable here. That connection indicates that H has already developed the obsession with the unknown that will fester during her adulthood.

During the next fragmented sentence (“thats real (pure!) art when you only do it for yourself and you don't even want anyone els to experience it.”), H’s ethos on art becomes articulated. And from the phrase “pure!,” that ethos is grounded upon a fallacy—nothing’s ‘pure’ because nothing exists in a vaccum. To insist the artistic purity of something is to insist that nothing influences a person, an impossibility due to traditions and history. Apart from that, there’s the phrase “when you only do it for yourself,” wherein H’s ethos on art is essentially ‘outsider art’ in a nutshell—with the example which springs to mind being that of Henry Darger.[5] But that segues into “you don’t even want anyone els to experience it,” a phrase that’s the impetus behind the types of discussions on ethics vs artistic intent vs the public that fans the flames of postmodernism.

Another fallacy emerges via H’s next sentence “It’s just big headed to want to show what you do to other people.” That may be easy for someone with the ethos of an outsider artist to say, but for a full-time artist to make a living, showing “what you do to other people” is a requirement. Not only does that mean that the Oscar Wilde idea of “art for art’s sake” is dead, but it also ties back into the push-and-pull entailed by Steven’s quote about the title of the Stupid Dream album:

“When I was writing some of the songs of the album I was very much aware of this contradiction between being an artist, being a musician, trying to be creative and write songs and, then, at the point you finish an album, the music is finished, the creative side is finished, you then have to go out and sell and market and promote. And that's like a completely different experience. It's not a very creative process. It's quite—in some ways—a cynical process going on having to sell your music. But you have to do it. I mean, if a modern musician is going to survive as a musician, you have to—in a sense—‘prostitute yourself' to try and sell your music and your art. And I was very much aware of that contradiction. If you think about that too much, it can drive you crazy, you know. It's an absurd thing to be doing. That kind of led me thinking about when I was a teenager, when I was just starting out and I was interested in being a musician. And I think a lot of teenage kids have this dream of being pop stars, of being a professional musician. This 'stupid dream' of being famous and 'life is a ball and everything is wonderful'. And, of course, actually the reality is that being a professional musician is a very hard work. It can be very heartbreaking, there's a lot of disappointment, there's a lot of hard work, there's a lot of travelling.”

But that train-of-thought loops back into an earlier topic during the next sentence (“When we got back M+D weren't speaking again, they have a big argument, but I don't think it was about us going to Camden they didn't mention it.”), wherein more warning shots of an incoming divorce are divulged. Merely that the parents are having “a big argument” is a telltale sign that the marriage is crumbling into ruin. But something else bubbles under the surface of H’s next phrase “I don’t think it was about us going to Camden they didn’t mention it.” Considering that H ran away and returned, the single-minded focus on arguing with each other’s a telling sign. It indicates that H’s parents are so caught-up in what they loathe about each other that it’s interfering with their parental responsibilities.

Yet instead of this, an earlier memory jumps to H’s mind over the course of the next sentence (“Reminds me of that time I ran away but this time I don’t think they would have even noticed if I had”). Right off from “Reminds,” we pick up on the involvement of associative memory. But “that time I ran away” points towards an unexplained memory that’s indefinite as to when it occurred. However, “this time” resituates the reader into the present moment. That present moment permits H to link the past to the present since she doesn’t “think they would have noticed if they had,” an assumption made based on the intensity of her parents’ bickering.

That H’s parents are currently in such an intense at-each-other’s-throats state is a quality standing in opposition to the next duo of sentences: “they were really worried and angry with me that time. Not good.” From “really worried and angry with me that time,” the contrast between the current moment and a time when H’s parents weren’t caught up in hating each other is introduced. But there’s two aspects towards H’s next phrase of “Not good.” This clipped two-word sentence can denote a child-like way of seeing the world. However, it also entails that H doesn’t realize the bigger picture in regards to the hostility felt between her parents.

Lack of clarity shifts into irony with H’s statement of “Thank God I have J.” Ironic is an apt word to describe “Thank God” for two reasons: the first being Steven’s atheism while the second’s derived from the divine implications behind the Visitors (as found in Entry 44 and 45). Then there’s “I have J,” where the possessive form of “have” proves ironic given J’s abduction.

Which ends up leading into points raised regarding reality over the span of the following sentence: “She told me her ghost story, swears it’s true.” On one hand, the motif of a “ghost story” links this album to The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories) in literal and figurative respects. Literal if the Visitors are supernatural entities and figurative since H ends up haunted by the ghosts of a past. As for the phrase “swears it’s true,” that’s where reality becomes a conflicted matter. Namely through the disparity between emotional truth (what one felt happened) versus literal truth (how events really transpired).

In the next sentence (“Made me feel a bit spooked, had to listen to her Prefab Sprout tape to clear the atmosphere.”), a reaction to the ghost story is detailed. And from the phrasing of “Made me feel a bit spooked,” that response is both psychological and physiological. While there’s no word on what the ghost story is, it probably involves how J first established contact with the Visitors. But if one considers J imaginary, it’s how H first made contact with the Visitors. Regardless, the specific band (“Prefab Sprout”) mentioned on one of J’s mix-tapes provides a warm and comfortable pop sound “to clear the atmosphere” and lighten the mood.

Even though that lightened mood doesn’t last long—as noted by the next sentence: “They promised me they aren’t ghosts.” Make note that the pronoun “They” (in the narrative) doesn’t refer to non-binary people, but to the Visitors—it’s been used as such a few times in the blog. Within that same blog, the Visitors are characterized as manipulative, a trait which affects the fact that they “promised” insofar as it now counts as a ‘fingers-crossed’ promise. Judging from “they aren’t ghosts,” this promise is true in a literal sense, but a lie in a figurative sense.

Progressing onto the events of Sunday October 6th, there’s the new day’s first sentence: “It’s been raining the whole day long, everything is wet and grey outside, and this weekend J. has gone to visit a friend she knows from the home.” By the wording of “been raining” it’s conveyed that the convergence of past and present is a trait that’s existed in H from an early age—albeit in subtler ways than on Entry 41. As for the phrase “everything is wet and grey outside,” that’s a coloring entailing desolation, a primary motif in H’s surreal artwork that she draws as an adult. But one striking asset stems from “J. has gone to visit a friend she knows from the home.” Here, the “home” can suggest the Visitors, an eerie thought since J appears to get abducted by them.

Another sentence foreshadowing elements of H’s future lies dead-ahead: “So I've been doing nothing but staring out of the window watching the rain drops make puddles.” In this portion, “doing nothing” points towards wasting time, something H does a lot of in later years. So perhaps the symbolism of a ripple effect in the phrase “watching the rain drops make puddles” proves apt—this one mundane activity sets the tone for much of H’s later life once J’s abducted.

To keep things from becoming too mundane, memory is invoked in the page’s last sentence: “Something a bit strange happened yesterday, it was sunny, so I went down to the canal and watched people operating the locks.” But a child’s memory factors into “Something a bit strange,” wherein the indefinite status of “Something” connotes that H doesn’t know the full weight behind what she’s about to describe. Faulty memory also factors into the dates of “Yesterday.” Here, the year can’t be 1992 since October 5th, 1992 (the “Yesterday” in question) fell on a Monday while the handbook puts that date on a Saturday. From this, we can infer either that the chronology’s screwed-up, that H is mixing up the days, or that the “When I was thirteen” bit from “Perfect Life” doesn’t hold up upon further scrutiny. Ending the page comes the phrase “people operating the locks,” which contains a nautical term with a specific definition: “A lock is a device used for raising and lowering boats, ships and other watercraft between stretches of water of different levels on river and canal waterways.”

Pages 4 & 5

The artwork for these two pages isn’t as frequent as it was on pages two and three, but there’s still topics to discuss. For instance, there’s (on page four) the blacked-out page (page 144 of Mockingjay) that has a drawing of a drop of blood with the words “Come for blood” etched on it—an ominous sign that the Visitors are not benevolent, something which H learns once she believes that they abduct J. Next, there’s the two points of discussion regarding artwork from page five: the entire left side and the drawing over to the mid-right of the page.

In regards to the left-side of page five, there’s the large pink-and-purple tinted page with a stylized quote (“Fight through the pain, it’s worth it”) written on it. From the tint itself, one can see a hint of foreshadowing since much of H’s mature artwork contains heavy use of the color purple, but also because purple has symbolic associations with the Visitors in said artwork. But the phrase “Fight through the pain, it’s worth it” proves darkly ironic since H ultimately (in Entry 44) surrenders.

Then there’s the image on the mid-right of the same page: a rain-soaked girl walking on the streets. On one level, it’s a literal depiction of events. On another, it complements the lyrics from “3 Years Older” that are printed below. That complementary element provides a vantage point for that song on the album.

Much like how I offered the transcript of pages two and three, I’ve taken the liberty of doing so for pages four and five:

Sometimes I offer to help if they don’t look like they know what they’re doing! Well, it got a bit later and it turned colder and became pretty deserted, so I started to walk back along the tow path towards home. When I came around the corner at the bridge at Bank Mill I saw a girl standing very close to the water, just staring in. She looked about my age, but I didn’t recognise her. Anyway she didn’t look up, even though she must have heard me so I decided I would just pretend she wasn’t there also. But as I was passing she did turn to me and said something that sounded like: “You can come back if you want to but no one ever does” and then she went back to staring at the water. I thought “that’s weird!” and just carried on walking. It had started to rain by then and I wanted to get home in time for J’s return. I did have one more glance back when I was further up the path, but she was gone. I told J. about it later, but she said not to mention it to anyone.

Continuing off of the thread regarding “people operating the locks” (on page 3), there’s the first sentence of page 4: “Sometimes I offer to help if they don’t look like they know what they’re doing!” Here, H—in her “offer to help”—shows her naiveté through an instance of kindness that conflicts with the notion behind the idiom ‘don’t talk to strangers.’ Since this isn’t wisdom, it conveys that H hasn’t been jaded by the way the world functions. Further limitations about H emerge in the phrase “if they don’t look like they know what they’re doing!” At this point, one’s left to question how H can determine ignorance from external features alone. Especially considering that the “people operating the locks” likely have far more experience doing this than H does.

With the abrupt shift in topic during the next sentence (“”Well, it got a bit later and it turned colder and became pretty deserted, so I started to walk back along the tow path towards home.”), more facets of H’s character are uncovered. Namely in the usage of phrases such as “Well,” “got a bit later,” and “turned colder”—all of which (by showing H’s youth) contrast with the tightly-controlled blog post made by H as an adult. As for the words “tow path,” that’s one last nautical definition: a road or trail on the bank of a river, canal, or other inland waterway which allows a land vehicle, beasts of burden, or a team of human pullers to tow a boat.

British geography factors into the next sentence: “When I came around the corner at the bridge at Bank Mill I saw a girl standing very close to the water, just staring in.” But in trying to determine the location of “the bridge at Bank Mill,” I came to the conclusion that “Bank Mill” is apparently of indeterminate origin. While it could refer to Quarry Bank Mill, the fact that that particular textile mill’s located in Cheshire (on the opposite side of England from locations such as Camden and Euston) renders it unlikely that a teenage girl could walk that far in a short length of time. More than likely, “Bank Mill” is a regional name for a landmark around the Camden/Euston area which I’m not able to pin down.

Now for the topic of the “girl standing very close to the water,” which becomes the topic of the next few sentences—the first of which is “She looked about my age, but I didn’t recognise her.” Regarding “about my age,” that’s an area of vagueness reflecting that H is unable to know this. Part of H’s inability to know stems from “I didn’t recognise her,” an acknowledgment that this person’s a complete stranger to H. And that’s before the time H isolated herself.

But from the next sentence (“Anyway she didn't look up, even though she must have heard me so I decided I would just pretend she wasn't there also.”), one gets the feeling that something’s up with this girl. Especially since the phrase “she didn’t look up, even though she heard me” entails three things—all of which imply something else. First, there’s the intense concentration on the water, which suggests that there’s supernatural significance in that activity. Next, there’s the connotation of deafness—which is unlikely given that this girl’s likely a Visitor. Lastly, there’s the implication of predatory behavior, a notion within the realm of possibility given what’s known about the Visitors. With all of this in mind, the fact that H “decided I would just pretend she wasn’t there also” registers as an extreme example of naiveté for H to think that would work.

Further fishiness is ascertainable from the lengthy next sentence: “But as I was passing she did turn to me and said something that sounded like “You can come back if you want to but no one ever does” and then she went back to staring at the water.” From H’s testimony that “as I was passing she did turn to me,” it’s denoted that this girl was sent to intercept H. Not only that, but since this girl’s likely a Visitor, it’s implied that the Visitors knew about H the whole time and waited to strike. The detail that this comes from H’s testimony informs a reading of the phrase “something that sounded like,” wherein the lack of specificity renders suspect the accuracy of the quote that follows until it’s repeated in “Ancestral” and the final blog entries. As for that quote, that the girl utters the words ““You can come back if you want to but no one ever does”” creates a status where the Visitors are likened to the divine (see Entry 44/45). Furthermore, that this girl “went back to staring at the water” conveys that that activity is important to the Visitors.

Following this comes a sentence (“I thought “that’s weird!” and just carried on walking.”) which acts as an interjection and informs H’s character at this point of her life. For instance, “I thought” constitutes a reflection on the prior events—albeit remembered from the vantage point of writing it down one day later. As for H’s reaction of ““that’s weird!” and just carried on walking,” it’s clear that she thinks nothing of the situation—an attitude that’s a complete 180 from how H approaches this quote as an adult. Readers/listeners that know of the future events can say that perhaps H should’ve thought about it. But if the Visitors are divine beings, any reaction made by H would’ve been futile. In that regard, the wording of “It had started to rain by then and I wanted to get home in time for J’s return” registers ominously since it’s guaranteed that that’ll eventually be impossible.

Furthermore, the next sentence (“I did have one more glance back when I was further up the path, but she was gone”) and the power of the Visitors. On the topic of the former, the phrase “one more glance back when I was up the path” amounts to H exhibiting a curiosity borne from an instinct that something’s wrong. Regarding the power of the Visitors, that’s one way to explain the sudden disappearance conveyed by “but she was gone.” The other way to read that is as evidence that this whole episode was H hallucinating the girl.

Both possibilities are at play in the final sentence of the handbook: “I told J. about it later, but she said to not mention it to anyone.” On the one hand, the phrase “She said not to mention it to anyone” implies that J’s already had contact with the Visitors and knows that no humans will believe the truth about them when told. However, there’s the ample evidence in the handbook, the blogs, the missing persons articles, and the surreal artwork pointing towards the idea that the Visitors are an elaborate fiction devised by H.

Page 6

Since page six consists of only the artwork, there’s not much to talk about. Here, it’s just the purple-tinted page with “Anything could happen” printed on it. That quote can act as a response to the previous quote (“Fight through the pain, it’s worth it”) on page five. In that sense, these quotes amount to H attempting to lift up her own spirits. Unfortunately, it doesn’t end up working.

B: Official Documentation

Replica of Birth Certificate

From the front of the certificate, there are the following columns: “No.,” “When and where born,” “Name, if any,” “Sex,” “Name and surname of father,” “Name, surname, and maiden surname of mother,” “Occupation of Father,” “Signature, description, and residence of informant,” “When registered,” and “Signature of registrar.” Out of these, two of them (“When and where born” and “Signature, description, and residence of informant”) offer the impression of an ‘ordinary’ middle-class British upbringing. Any identifying signatures of the parents (taking care of “Name, if any,” “Name and surname of father,” and “Name, surname, and maiden name of mother”) are rendered into gibberish via a mass of letters that are indistinguishable—probably in order to have any actual person end up doxxed.

Although one would think that “232” (listed under the “No.” column) carries importance, that’s dashed. For all of my searching, there’s nothing relevant to the story regarding symbolic significance of the number 232. That’s true of numerological and historical (occurrences in the year 232) terms. Likewise, the name “Athnes Gilray” (listed under “Signature of registrar”) appears to be a fictional name.

There is one bit of autobiographical information in the “Occupation of father” column. Since it lists “Electrical Engineer” under that particular column, it’s important to note that that was the exact occupation of Steven Wilson’s own father. That father’s death occurred just prior to the recording sessions for Grace for Drowning and cast a long shadow over the writing process of The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories).

Another bit of information appears in the form of the “When registered” column, which lists “Twelfth October 1978.” That so happens to be the date that Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols was charged with the murder of his girlfriend Nancy Spungen. Probably a coincidence but one worth noting since Steven's music is the opposite of that of the Sex Pistols.

Initial Child Observation

From the opening sentence (“She is a friendly little girl, she seems to prefer small group activities rather than large groups.”), long-standing holding patterns are already present from an early age. Even so, “friendly little girl” denotes that once the ice is broken for H, things become easier until self-sabotage comes into the fray. This phrase is followed by the word “seems,” which invokes the familiar thematic motif of the exterior not giving away what occurs in the interior mind. So it’s fitting that H would “prefer small group activities rather than large groups,” since that foreshadows another element: the isolation that’ll consume her.

For the sentence that follows (“She enjoys most activities on offer in nursery, although, she sometimes needs encouragement to try different or new things.”), more familiar elements arise. First, there’s the conjunction “although” which tempers any implications that could be derived anywhere earlier in the sentence—a grammatical attempt to invoke ‘hand cannot erase.’ And then there’s the phrase that H “sometimes needs encouragement to try different or new things,” entailing that H had a ‘set-in-her-ways’ quality even at a young age.

Perhaps most telling of all is the third sentence: “She seems to enjoy imaginative games/activities such as the home corner warming up clothes; dinosaurs and animals and especially the space station.” Here, it’s important to note that “home corner warming up clothes” is (as depicted in Entry 3) not exactly an activity for H since she assumed domestic activities on her own in order to help around the house. But what this blends into contains greater weight for the future. First, there’s the phrase “dinosaurs and animals” that provides connotations of the fantastic and denotes a want to assume the identity of another being. Second (and most important of all), there’s “especially the space station” a not-so-subtle not to the identity of the Visitors that makes one wonder how early did H have inklings of them.

Just the description of H enjoying “playing outside” in the final sentence (“She also likes playing outside, she can throw a ball and climb on apparatus with care.”) smacks of irony. Ironic because of the shut-in leanings of H during the events described in the blog.

School Report

Most of this becomes repetitive, so the in-depth analysis only needs to cover one teacher’s comments. I’ll select the one for English Literature.

Judging from the opening sentence of “H’s work is a curious mixture of rich observation and slapdash assumption,” H’s teacher points towards a contradiction regarding H. That contradiction itself is highlighted by the word “curious,” which entails it’s striking that H defies the standards set by the educational system. Even if one has to question whether “rich observation” is rich if one doesn’t know the texts.

The nature of H’s “curious mixture” is illuminated by the next sentence: “Too often she appears to be somewhere else to the rest of the class, although when H is forced to do so she can display a natural talent for understanding the text at hand.” At the core of the “curious mixture” comes “natural talent” and how that suggests a division between instinct and knowledge—and it’s clear that the social order of the educational system wants a knowledge-based talent. Especially considering that the negative wording of “forced” leaves open some questionable disciplinary practices—practices which make the claim that Hand. Cannot. Erase. is “The Wall for the Facebook generation”[6] one with more in-common than initially thought. As for the nature of that natural talent, the phrase “appears somewhere else” denotes that (due to the hallucinations) H operates on a different mindset.

As for how the social order wants to use H’s gifts, the next sentence (“I believe there is still far to go if she is to channel this in any kind of constructive way.”) has a clue. Said clue derives from the phrase “channel this,” which implies that they want to harness H’s talents into something that can benefit people besides H. The ways to interpret that are as a ‘for the good of all’ approach, as manipulation, or as both.

Such factors motivate the teacher’s words in the sentence that follows: “To rely on intuitive response, no matter how brilliant, is no substitute for thoroughly knowing the texts.” Here, it’s implied that “thoroughly knowing the texts” is a commitment of both time and effort. Unfortunately, those are two things which H isn’t willing to expend.

This train of thought carries over to the following sentence: “Her essays are characterised by their creative insight, but also by their brevity and lack of depth.” On one level, this is an instance of H exhibiting minimal effort. On another, it’s H getting everything across instinctually.

That sense of instinct backfires if the final sentence (“Unless H puts in a great deal of effort between now and next year she will not fulfill her potential, which would be a waste.”) is any indication. And it’s a sentence which H would respond with “Potential for what?” just like she does in Entry 5. Despite the minimal effort, that response alone entails that H is too apathetic to care.

C: Lyric Writings

Postcard

Apart from the album lyrics on the left side being those of the album’s title track (which will be discussed on the album proper), there are two components worth discussion. First, there’s the address on the right side. Second, the symbol which appears down at the bottom right.

The address (if you can’t read it out) appears as follows: “B.F./210 Maydew House/Abbeyfield Road/London/SE16 2DP.” That seems like an ordinary address. However, Carrie mentioned this (in the same interview as earlier) about the address on the postcard: “If you go there, you will find huge blocks of flats built between 1965-1967.”

As for the symbol over to the bottom right, that’s one which also appears on the writing desk of H in one of the Deluxe Edition materials. Additionally, it’s present in some unused artwork for the album:

For the record, it’s on the bottom left and apparently, those words are Spanish translations of “Hand cannot erase,” “Arcane Handset On,” “Her Antennas Coda,” and various other anagrams of the album’s title.

D: Surrealist Artwork of H

Image 1

Whenever discussing the surreal artwork drawn by H, the best course of action is a two-fold one. First, there’s a description of what the artwork looks like. Then, there’s a breakdown of various elements of the image.

In the case of our first image, there’s black-and-white sketches coated with pitch-black paint. Amongst the carnage, words and letters spell out “Just a visitor?” Such stark imagery suggests desolation—especially with the washed-out colors entailing depression in H. The quote of “Just a visitor?” does have one bit that isn’t insignificant: the question mark. That question mark denotes that this image is a rendition of the moment H formed her conclusion on what she thinks the Visitors are. Plus, there’s the suggestion that ‘Visitor’ is merely a pet-name given by H when she thought that that was all they were.

Image 2

From what’s observable, there’s a blue door marked “ENTRANCE” (with “EXIT” crossed out) surrounded by a malaise of colors and black paintings of a hand and something slithering. The image itself illustrates H’s escapist desires via the door while the cruelty of the world is symbolized by everything surrounding it. For instance, the black hands can mark the Visitors, the burdens of the world, the burdens within H’s mind, or a combination of all three. One would be wise to consider that the door is only a mythic fantasy and that H can’t escape her problems as easily as going elsewhere.

Image 3

Gazing upon our third image greets us to a colorless girl surrounded by a tree while another girl morphs into a black-and-purple entity. The cutout woman serves as a stand-in for H while the morphing entity probably marks J becoming one of the visitors. Meanwhile, the entirety of the scenery is barely painted—the world here is truly lifeless apart from the lone tree. Even that tree’s debatable since the round patch of green at the tree-top can be construed as the shape of a flying saucer. That detail suggests that any substance in H’s life derives from somewhere other than the world she lives in.

But look at the black malaise on the ground by H. By virtue of being abducted, that malaise never got to grab J. That detail does carry symbolic significance. Through her abduction, J carries connotations of innocence or a ‘sacrificial lamb’ figure. Meanwhile, H may very well be stuck in a Purgatory.

Image 4

The fourth image appears as a rather straightforward one compared to the three which have come before it. Here, there’s just two large colored discs surrounded by natural landscapes. Doubtless, the colored discs represent the Visitors’ equivalent of a flying saucer. What’s more striking is the detail that the natural landscapes are as colorful as the saucers themselves. That detail suggests that the desolate landscapes of Images 1 and 3 are visions of what the world is doomed to become within the perspective of H.

Image 5

Since this image registers as more complex than the four preceding it, it’s split into a left and a right side.

Left side

The core of this end of the page consists of the lyrics to the spoken-word section of “Perfect Life” amidst black smudges. A careful observer will note that some fragments of the lyrics have been either highlighted or underlined—and there’s a reason for each instance. First, “shellshocked” evokes a state of mental distress that (if J is merely a persona of H’s) speaks as much about H as it does about J. Next, “imagine” links directly into that bond between H and J—if J’s a figment of H’s imagination, the clause of “from past lives I could not image” implies that not even H knows where J came from.

Meanwhile, the phrasing of “She said “The water has no memory”” denotes that H associates the episode with the girl at the lake (found in pages 4 and 5 of the handbook entries) with her time with H—a connection that coheres because both instances are ageless and permanent in the mind, yet permanence only happens in the natural world. It’s that impermanence which collapses the connotations of “It was only us, we were inseparable.” Since that phrase explains that the times presented in “Perfect Life” are idealized by H due to that time marking an oasis (from the negative aspects of reality), the impermanent nature of time guarantees that that oasis will disappear eventually.

As a result, the phrase “memory” becomes particularly relevant due to its came-and-went nature. Consider how H lost her memories of J for an extended period of time—with the lack of a physical presence (if J’s imaginary), there’s the implication that the mind can erase what the hand cannot. And the scary thing is that—because H’s forgetting of J was likely unconscious—no one can guarantee that they can control what the mind will or won’t erase. That’s especially frightening when factoring art into the picture--especially if that art hasn't been shared with the world (which makes the discussion on Kafka in pages 2-3 of the handbook relevant).

Right side

Imagery of a landscape coated with black raindrops with three white circles up in the sky comprise the bulk of this side of the page. Additionally, there’s subtle details such as the word “Really?” being etched above the white circles, a big black ‘X’ over a girl’s outline, and some Greek letters that the paint renders illegible.

Regarding the black raindrops, one can construe that they convey H’s inner sorrow after J’s abduction. In one sense, it’s a life devoid of substance. Even though J’s not dead, the substance of H’s life isn’t there anymore since H depended on J only to have her ripped away from her. On that note, J’s abduction is reminiscent of the couple torn apart in the flashback which fuels Porcupine Tree’s “Arriving Somewhere But Not Here,” (from Deadwing) where a violent car-wreck kills a woman and renders her a ghost.

This ripping away factors into the imagery of the three white circles that represent the Visitors, but it factors more poignantly with the question placed above the circles: “Really?” With just one word, H ponders three different questions simultaneously. Question one amounts to wondering why the Visitors would be cruel enough to take J away from H. Another question—why would J leave—wraps matters up in a guilt-complex akin to that of the bereaved man in “Drive Home” (from The Raven That Refused To Sing (and Other Stories)). But it’s H’s last question that’s most reflected in future imaged: why wasn’t H taken at the same time as J?

One final detail (the ‘X’ over the girl’s outline surely marks the presence of J. The implication of which is that the time of this drawing’s creation is the same as when H made the conscious decision to start blocking out the memory of J.

Image 6

Left side

On this end of the image, the first thing one’s likely to notice is the blue-headed entity clad in what looks like a spacesuit. This entity is more than likely how H perceives an alien (particularly a Visitor to resemble). That much has credence via the phrases on the alien’s spacesuit: “UFO” and “R.47.” While “UFO” is the common acronym for ‘Unidentified Flying Object,’ the phrase “R.47” requires some background information: namely that the Roswell UFO incident occurred in 1947. However, the Roswell incident has (as of the 90s) been debunked in the form of two reports published by the US military stating that the crashed object was merely a nuclear test surveillance balloon. The fact that Roswell was debunked isn’t something that crossed H’s mind when making this drawing—she only selectively bends information to her own liking.

Other words and phrases ascertainable from the mess are “H” and a crossed-out “THEM.” For the former, one should recall that “THEM” was used early on to denote a Visitor. As for the usage of H’s name, one way of interpreting that involves the artwork depicting what H imagines being beckoned by a Visitor’s like.

Right side

Two primary details comprise this end of the image: the troll-esque creature and the two messages obscured within the etchings. On the subject of the creature, take note of two facets of his appearance: the deformities and that he’s holding some of the black malaise from previous images. In essence, this troll symbolically represents H’s mental state during this whole crisis: the world’s swallowing her up, but she hardly deemed herself fit to function in the world to begin with.

Regarding the two messages (“TAHW EHT ELHE” and “H neighbour whats this [illegible] to there with ME”), both also serve a similar function as the imagery of the troll. First, “TAHW EHT ELHE” is just a screwed-up spelling of “What the Hell” (only with two e’s instead of two l’s), a phrase that’s probably H’s exact reaction in such a situation. As for what can be made out of “H neighbour whats this [illegible] to there with ME,” this message conveys the moment when H wondered why all this had to happen to her, rendering this an extension of the “Really?” question (from Image 5 (Right)).

Image 7

Left side

There’s a pair of components on display off to this side of the image. First, there’s the return of the black malaise, but now in the form of a massive blob. More pertinently, there’s the words over by the to-do list at the bottom-left: “Mad?” and “Like me.”

In relation to the blob which comprises the black malaise in this image, one has to consider this image a continuation of the troll image (Image 6 (Right)). So now, the troll (standing in for H) has had the black malaise spread all over his body. Regarding the symbolism of that, it’s clear that the metaphor at play amounts to the negative aspects of the world smothering any semblance of identity from H.

Now for the words off to the bottom-left. In one sense, “Mad?” gives off connotations of insanity, which can read as H unconsciously acknowledging that she’s slowly going insane. As for “Like me,” that can concern that J’s no better/no saner than the rest of the world. Since the world doesn't operate rationally, H can make sense in an illogical world yet come across as insane due to the rubric set by the illogical elite. Therefore, this piece of art suggests that H posits herself as someone living in a Kafkaesque world (tying back into Entry 1).

Right side

On a mere descriptive level, there are three factors at play in the right side of image seven. The first of these is the large black blob marked “YOU.” Factor number two is denoted by the word “ME” appearing in the white space underneath the blob. But the last factor comes in the form of the etching of “(SHAME)” adjacent to “ME.”

Concerning the black blob (which has the same symbolic connotations as on the left side of this image), the component worth dissecting is the word “YOU” having been marked into it. There’s two ways of reading it—just like there’s two ways of interpreting the blackness of the blob. The substance of the blob amounts to a Joycean unknown or negativity, depending on whether “YOU” refers to J or to H.

Personally, my money’s on “YOU” referring to H. The reason for which appears in the etching of “ME” in the white space beneath the blob. Considering what a lack of paint has symbolized (desolation/emptiness) in earlier pieces by H, there’s the sense that the symbolism of that connects to H far more than it does to J. For instance, that “ME” entails that H feels devoid of substance and identity at the current moment. Whereas the blob—as a symbol of negativity—continues to drag H down into further depths of despair.

Greater importance is indebted to the etching of “(SHAME)” that’s positioned near “ME.” On one level, it conveys H’s feelings that she couldn’t join J with the Visitors immediately. On another, the parenthesis convey that the sensation of shame is—at this point in time—muted within H. However, there’s also a relevant album lyric from “3 Years Older” (“Shame on you for getting older everyday”) which—with this artwork in mind—takes on a new meaning considering the implications of divinity regarding the Visitors (raised by Entry 44 and 45). All of that suggests that the “SHAME” is one element of the symbolic purgatory experienced by H.

Image 8

Left side

On just a descriptive level, this part of the image contains three sections worth pondering. Section one’s the primary black background. Section two’s the visually-striking detail of white splatters which comprise the top half of the image. The third section—that a fragment of the splatters spell out the word “Pain”—will bear the brunt of analysis.

Just the image of a black background marks the culmination of a process that began way back on the right side of Image 6. That progression’s one of negativity—and now, that makes up the entire world to the point where H’s sense of identity is completely devoured. Such qualities of negativity motivate how one reads the white splatters. In this reader’s eyes, the white splatters indicate a fragmented sense of faith in the Visitors. But their disordered construction imbues a random quality towards anything positive whereas anything negative appears to be the end-result of calculated decisions.

These white splatters do spell out a word—“Pain”—that’s worth analyzing. Since the word’s miniscule in size compared to the rest of the splatters, one receives the impression that pain has become an afterthought to H. Additionally, the symbolism of white as positive qualities entails that pain is something desirable. Instead of connotations of domination, that instance of symbolism invokes the following quote:

“Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.” – William Faulkner, The Wild Palms (1939)

In this scenario, both options have downsides. However, the option of “nothing” amounts to a long-term state of emptiness. Ironically, H’s trajectory mirrors one of a person that doesn’t heed the advice of the Faulkner quote and opts to choose “nothing” out of a fear of the “pain.”

Right side

In terms of mere description, the right half of this image offers a smorgasboard of details—five in total. First, there’s the white space that comprises the bulk of the background. Next, there’s the smattering of random sketches along with the fact that one of those sketches resembles a disembodied mouth. Finally, there’s the black splatter-marks, how some of those marks spell out “empty,” and the fact that the ‘e’ in “empty” appears to emerge from what resembles either a wormhole or a comet.

First off, the white background serves a similar function to the black one from the left side—a comparison denoting that desolation (both artistically and functionally) isn’t too different from negativity. As for the random sketches, that also ties to the empty and desolate world. Since within such a world, anything with the remotest resemblance to structure may as well appear in the form of random nonsense.

The lone non-random sketch is that of a disembodied mouth. On one level, this is an illustration of a literal consumption. But on another, it’s (due to being part of the human body) a display of H’s solipsism.

As for the black splatter-marks spelling the word “empty,” that word connotes the exact state that the black substance places H in. However, the removal of that substance won’t do any good since it also leaves H empty—just like the desolation of the white background. That the word “empty” emerges from what appears to be a wormhole leads to one conclusion: the Visitors are—by their action of abducting J—are the root of H’s emptiness.

Image 9

Left side

Since this drawing’s the same as the one which appears in Entry 41, one would think there’s nothing to talk about. However, take a gaze at the bottom-left—there’s the phrase “0 Tears left/I need a cigarette” printed there. That phrase alone entails that H has shed every tear that she needs for the situation. Furthermore, H associates the lack of tears with her list (in Entry 24) with connotations of emotional numbing. Especially considering that (at the point of the narrative where this drawing appeared in the blog) H’s smoking—a method used to calm herself—has built up a tolerance so that the ‘calming’ effect doesn’t work anymore.

Right side

Contrary to the left side, the right side comprises of several elements that warrant picking apart. Right off the bat, there’s the presence of a multi-colored (black, orange, yellow, and white) entity emerging from green-white grass. Then, words appear to the right of the entity—but the words themselves are in Japanese (and only half of them are translated). Thirdly, there’s the all-caps phrase “IS THAT YOU,” along with a marking for 2925 British Pounds. All of that carries significance.

Beginning with the entity itself, there’s the notion that H—in drawing this—imagines a reunion with J. If this entity’s supposed to represent J, then there’s something to make of the decidedly non-human appearance—that the exposure to the Visitors has altered her to the point of unrecognizability. As to where this ‘exposure’ occurs, there’s a hint in the ‘too pure’ state of nature present in the green-white grass. That hint implies that H imagines the reunion between herself and J as taking place on the homeworld of the Visitors. As for the imagined response of “IS THAT YOU,” it’s left ambiguous as to whether those words are uttered by H or by J—at least by that phrase itself.

Because another source—the Japanese words—suggest that the “IS THAT YOU” comes from H. That suggestion considers that the meaning of these words isn’t as significant to J as the fact that they’re presented in a different language to begin with. By utilizing a foreign tongue, H manages to convey an alien tongue—either way reflects a displacement from any sense of home. But maybe it’s appropriate that such a fantasy comes crashing down in the mention of 2925 British Pounds. Considering that that’s approximately $3,745.10 and given the mention of money troubles in the blog (specifically Entry 42), this can be the exact amount of money that H has left. As such, this ends this image on a stark note.

Image 10

Left side

Five points of detail emerge from the left side of the image. The first is that—aside from a wall of black emerging from the left side—the background’s almost entirely blank. Secondly, there’s the image of pasty-white alien with blue extremities that may or may not have an exposed phallus (it’s either that or a pillow placed right at that spot). As for component number three, that’s the detail of a woman lying in bed while she’s sticking her hands through a red circle. Factor four appears via the quote which takes up most of the image: “You were there from the beginning and you will stay for the rest they used to call an existence.” Lastly, there’s the curious list of names off to the top-left: Elvis Presley, Humphrey Bogart, one illegible name, Lux Interior, and Oliver Hardy[7].

Starting with the blank background, there’s something more substantive about the black mass crawling from the left—it’s the negativity of the world about to consume the woman when she least expects it (just like it got to H). On the subject of the grotesque alien, that’s possibly a savior-esque figure—which conveys what H wishes to happen to her via the Visitors abducting her. Furthermore, if one interprets the blue thing to be the alien’s penis (not the pillow the woman rests her head on), then H’s wish is likened to the form of pleasure derived from an orgasm. Regarding the red circle which the woman sticks her hands through, this woman may be an insert for H given how sedentary the latter’s become at the time of this drawing’s creation—and the circle may be a wormhole.

Then there’s the topic of the phrase “You were there from the beginning and you will stay for the rest they used to call an existence.” Any interpretation of that sentence hinges upon two words: “the rest.” Either those two words can be construed as meaning ‘the remainder’ or ‘the sleep.’ Going off of the latter, the fact that it’s followed up by “they used to call an existence” suggests that life itself is a state of sleep. Afterwards, there’s apparently a state of wakefulness akin to enlightenment. Such ideas can be used to further support the notion that (in H’s imagination) the Visitors are divine beings.

That state of divinity is placed in sharp juxtaposition of the mortality entailed by the list of names at the top-left of the image: Elvis Presley, Humphrey Bogart, one illegible name, Lux Interior, and Oliver Hardy. From my research, all four of the named individuals have a few things in common besides that they were all born (and died) in the US. For instance, all of them participated in the arts as a profession—linking them to H. However, an ominous detail stems from the fact that each of these people had problems affecting the heart as a contributing factor in their deaths (and then there’s Elvis dying of a heart attack on the toilet and Lux dying of an aortic dissection[8]). This rings an ominous note because it potentially suggests that H dies at the end of the narrative.

Right side

Over to the right side, there’s only three ingredients of the image. First, there’s the maddening mess of black, white, and purple that substitutes as the background. Next, there’s the use of the word “damaged” that’s ascertainable down at the bottom-left. Lastly, the right-hand side of the image has the words “onhtnig ubt a imtskae,” which makes more sense than it initially appears.

Let’s begin the breakdown by addressing the chaotic display of black, white, and purple. In regards to the black and white, that’s an uncontrollable mess of positive and negative aspects of life clashing against each other. As for the purple, that’s the Visitors meandering about trying to collect others in order to make sense of it all—make sense of why human beings are such a ruthless species.

Then, there’s the message of “damaged.” On one level, that reflects how the Visitors perceive the majority of the human race: broken beyond any hope of repair. On another level, “damaged” is the exact opinion that H has of herself. Therefore, that one word also links to the idea that the Visitors (as saviors) can ‘fix’ H. Those two ideas reflect H having low self-esteem and an exalted opinion of the Visitors.

Finally, there’s the phrase “onhtnig ubt a imtskae,” a distortion of the phrase “nothing but a mistake.” The corrected message ties into the ideas of the rest of the image—that human existence only continues because of the misjudgements of the Visitors (at least in H’s mind). The distorted spelling does point towards something else: H’s failing mental health.

Image 11

Apart from the missing persons article for Madeline Hearne (previously shown when discussing Madeline in-depth), there’s only one component relevant to this gatefold-esque image. That component arrives via the form of the throng of women who are sketched out all across the pages. Given the visibility of the word ‘Visitor’ on the left half of the image, it’s safe to presume that all these women are people that the Visitors have abducted over the years. That’s a notion in-line with the conclusions H draws from the missing persons’ articles, but also the relative youth of these women—suggesting that the divine capabilities of the Visitors grant these women a form of immortality.

Image 12

There’s only two facets at play in this image, but both of them are more clearly-visible than when they debuted back in Image 11 (where they were barely discernible). First, there’s the house structure (complete with X’s) that has the word “Visitor” marked underneath—a visual detail indication someone being removed from the home. Considering that H considers the Visitors divine beings, this removal has connotations akin to that of a Biblical rapture. Slightly over to the right of the house, there’s the phrase “rescue em” etched out, a reference to what the Visitors claim to do to the abducted women.

Image 13

H’s final surreal image offers more to dissect than the last couple of images—three segments worth picking apart like a scab. The initial segment is the odd sight of seemingly-random etchings of reversed-words (except for “Monday” and “fight” presented forwards). Segment number two concerns the crack emerging from the middle. All matters conclude with the image of the black malaise seeping up from the bottom of the image.

From the etchings of words, it’s clear-as-day that H’s lost any and all will to “fight.” Up until now, H could do that—even if only in the form of some sort of code. That she’s forced to surrender renders the word “fight”—and its association with the artwork of handbook page five—into a self-deprecating taunt. As for the word marking the start of the week (“Monday”), this supports the notion introduced in Entry 41 that H has lost track of time. In fact, the past and the present have converged.

In regards to the crack in the middle of the image, one gets the sense that H feels premonitions and expresses them within her artwork. As for her current premonitions, H feels as though the Visitors are coming to claim her. However, one should note that even if H could express her premonitions verbally, the nature of the prophecies she speaks are outlandish enough that her words would fall on deaf ears. Therefore, H is rendered a Cassandra-esque[9] figure.

One question remains regarding the black malaise seeping from the bottom. Since the malaise symbolizes negativity and corruption, one can imply that this instance of the malaise would mark a transition from a purgatory-esque state into one resembling damnation. So the question is: does the malaise win or do the Visitors abduct her? Like the album and the blog, the answer to that question is left ambiguous.

Key of Skeleton

[Note: in my Word document, the following phrase is under strikethrough] Fuck this shit, I’m out. I have a pretty good idea what happens to H, anyway.

Coordinates

The coordinates appearing on the Key of Skeleton (as mentioned in Entry 23) have two different sets of organization, positive-positive pairs and positive-negative pairs. For significance of note, one has to delve into the history of what occurred at or near these specific locations.

Positive-Positive Pairs

These sets of coordinates are less organized than the positive-negative pairs, but there seems to be the trend of many of them occurring at high-rise apartment buildings. And for tragedies to have occurred at the locations in question.

51.602178, 0.118029

From my research, this coordinate corresponds to the London borough of Redbridge and/or the Epping Forest District (northeast of London). Furthermore, my digging discovered the records of a criminal investigation into a domestic violence incident from October 2013 (found here) that occurred in a flat around that area—and which ended in the murder of a woman named Gemma and the hands of her abusive ex-boyfriend. While I can’t prove whether or not that was on Steven’s mind when he wrote the album, the themes of seclusion, bad decisions, and domestic abuse form a thematic link between this case and the stories of both H and Joyce Carol Vincent.

51.475069, 0.081780

A hole in my analysis stems from this coordinate since I’m unable to find records of tragedies that occurred in this location (“Shrewsbury Park, East of London” or “Dothill Rd, London SE18 2PX, UK; Welling, United Kingdom”) around or before the time which Steven wrote the album.

50.886425, 1.369235

This coordinate pair apparently links to a point in the English Channel situated between Calais and Dover. There’s some history with that particular area and the distance between those two places. Because the distance from Calais to Dover is the direction where Captain Matthew Webb (1848-1883) swam from in under twenty-two hours—making him the first person in recorded history to swim the English Channel. That in itself isn’t a tragedy, but Webb’s reasons for swimming the Channel (out of sport and for the purposes of stunt) were the same that motivated the swim that ended in his death. The swim that killed Matthew Webb and 1883 was an attempt to swim through the Whirlpool Rapids on the Niagra River below Niagra Falls—a suicidal feat in the eyes of contemporary observers. Those same reporters also state that Webb survived the first part of the swim, but died in the section of the river located near the whirlpool’s entrance.

42.711256, 23.261750

Out of this set, this coordinate is the oddball since it’s in Bulgaria. However, it surely has significance to the narrative since it’s (as discussed in Part One with Entry 20) the same location used to stand-in for H’s apartment in the photos. In a sense, that geographical factoid may indicate that this one is meant to mirror a tragedy depicted in the positive-negative pairs (namely the Lakanal fire). Alternatively, since there seems to be a kindergarten near this location, it can serve as a parallel to the school shooting that claimed the lives of Madeline Hearne’s loved ones.

Positive-Negative Pairs

Elemental symbols are the organizing factor behind the positive-negative pairs. Namely the same ones found in alchemy and in the Nameless Ghouls (as fans of the band Ghost would know): Earth, Fire, Air, and Water.

51.602178, -0.118029 (Earth)

From the coordinates, there’s a few elements worth mentioning that stem from the specific location (“Newbury House, Wood Green, London N22 8DY, UK”). First, “Wood Green” is—apart from being the place where Joyce Carol Vincent died—the site of a terrorist attack. Namely that in December 1992, the Provisional IRA planted two bombs in separate litter bins about 200 yards from each other in the Shopping City complex—injuring eleven people (four of which were police officers). That’s one way this ties to the element of ‘earth’—blowing it apart.

But the other way is ascertainable from the second element worth poring over: “Newbury House.” This coordinate pair is directly positioned on a building about half a mile from the flat which Joyce Carol Vincent lived at the very end of her life. Given that JCV died and decayed in that flat, the element of earth marks Joyce Carol Vincent becoming part of the earth as her body decomposed—a point thematically similar to one which Steven has raised before in the lyrics to “Deform to Form a Star” (“The way we uncoil/Return to the soil.”).

51.475069, -0.81780 (Fire)

An event known as the Lakanal House Fire—which killed six people (including three children) on July 3rd, 2009—falls right on this particular coordinate. While I suggested that the ash-laden building which H saunters through in Entry 38 was the same building and that J may have been real and died in the fire, there’s a problem once dates come in. H knew J when she was thirteen-going-on-fourteen—so between September 1992 and February 1993. Given that the fire occurred in July of 2009, J couldn’t have died in the fire. The only way this remotely makes sense is if H made up the lie and convinced herself that it was true. But even that has issues since by July 2009, H’s blog already has five entries. However, the fact that the first entry after the events of the fire is Entry 6 (the one containing the spoken-word section of “Perfect Life”), it’s possible that the tragedy of the Lakanal House Fire sparked memories in H—leaving the possibility that J was real and died in a fire that’s similar to the Lakanal House Fire.

50.886425, -1.369235 (Air)

The coordinate in question points towards the Havre Towers in Southampton—a high-rise building. This building was also the scene of a tragedy in 2008 when Tracey Pancaldi jumped from the tenth floor of the Havre Towers to her death. Three years earlier, Tracey had experienced the death of her daughter Jade when she hung herself from a tree immediately after phoning her mother for the last time.

There’s probably something in the length of time (“Three years”) between the deaths of Tracey and Jade and linking that towards some of the themes of the album.

42.711256, -23.261750 (Water)

As previously mentioned in Part One (see Entry 17), this coordinate connects to the shipwreck of the Marie-Celeste from 1872. The location of the shipwreck—off the coast of the Azores—mirrors that of the coordinate being placed in the North Atlantic Ocean. The fact that the ship’s name has become a byword for an unexplained disappearance only adds fuel to the fire.

To Be Concluded....

• Endnotes:

• [1] A particular…Hamlet: William Shakespeare, Hamlet (IV, v, line 20 s.d): “Enter Ophelia [distracted].”

• [2] Richey Edwards: frontman, lyricist, and rhythm guitarist (1967—disappeared 1995) of the Welsh alternative rock band Manic Street Preachers who disappeared on February 1st, 1995 in Cardiff, Wales. Nearly two weeks later, Edwards' car was found by police with a dead battery near the Severn Bridge—a suicide site. Despite the assumption that Edwards jumped from the bridge to his death, his bandmates and his parents held out hope until November 2008, when Edwards was declared legally-dead (since his body was never found).

• [3] Bob Dylan’s Mr. Jones: refers to Bob Dylan’s 1965 song “Ballad of a Thin Man,” (from Highway 61 Revisited) whose stuck-up character Mr. Jones is subject to the refrain “Because something is happening here but you don’t know what it is/Do you, Mr. Jones?”

• [4] Franz Kafka: a German-speaking Bohemian Jewish novelist and short-story writer (1883-1924), regarded as one of the major figures of twentieth-century literature. His work, which fuses elements of realism and the fantastic, typically features isolated protagonist faced by bizarre or surreal predicaments and incomprehensible social-bureaucratic powers, and has been interpreted as exploring themes of alienation, existential anxiety, guilt, and absurdity.

• [5] Henry Darger: a reclusive American writer/artist (1892-1973) who worked as a hospital custodian in Chicago Illinois. He's become famous for his posthumously-discovered 15,145-page, single-spaced fantasy manuscript In The Realms of the Unreal (the longest-known piece of writing in existence, but remains unpublished despite Darger having worked on it over the span of six decades), along with several hundred drawings and watercolor paintings illustrating the story. Said illustrations range from idyllic Edwardian scenes with tranquil landscapes populated by children and mythical beings to depictions of the torture and mutilation of young children. Additionally, much of his art utilized collages of various sources.

• [6] "Steven Wilson - Official Facebook Page". Facebook Retrieved 2015-02-27

• [7] Elvis Presley: American singer (1935-1977) regarded as one of the most significant cultural icons of the 20th Century, often referred to as the “King of Rock and Roll” or just the “King”; Humphrey Bogart: (1899-1957) American actor (seen in Casablanca, The African Queen, and The Big Sleep) considered one of the greatest leading men of twentieth-century cinema; Lux Interior: American singer (1946-2009) and a founding member of the American punk rock band The Cramps—younger audience would know him as the voice of mock-band The Bird Brains in a cameo on an episode of Spongebob Squarepants; Oliver Hardy: American comic actor (1892-1957) and one half of Laurel and Hardy, the double act that began in the era of silent films and lasted 25 years, from 1927 to 1951.

• [8] Aortic dissection: occurs when an injury to the innermost layer of the aorta allows blood to flow between the layers of the aortic wall, forcing the layers apart.

• [9] Cassandra: a daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy in Greek mythology. Cassandra became a figure of epic tradition and of tragedy. In modern usage her name’s employed as a rhetorical device to indicate someone whose accurate prophecies are ignored.

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