En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Hogarth Experiment Part 1

The year was 1942 and the war in Europe
raged on relentlessly.
Each day men were killed
in battlefields far away.
In a sleepy little hamlet
tucked deep in the Wye Valley,
in a converted shed behind his home
Professor Robert Hogarth worked
in his makeshift laboratory.
His hope was to develop a stimulant
to make plants grow larger and quicker,
thus helping with the food shortage.

Outside the storm clouds gathered
extinguishing the light of the sun.
In the distance, there were rumbles
as the thunder began to roar.
Hogarth worked feverishly
on his latest experiment
as it was almost done.
A pain shot through him,
he gasped and gave out a short cry.
As he fell, he knocked his experiment
across the wooden floor.
The container holding his latest experiment
shattered and its contents leaked
through the floor spilling over everything beneath.
The flame from his Bunsen burner
began a fire that raced out of control.
Flames licked around the building
charring everything in sight.

To be continued…

poem by David Harris
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 2

The fire raged out of control
and into the night.
Its glow coloured the sky.
Chemicals exploded
as they warmed to boiling point.
Hogarth’s assistant Adam Wright
pulled Hogarth from the flames
and across the lawn.
The clanging of bells
from the Fire Brigade and Ambulance
were soon to be heard.
Hogarth was rushed to hospital
where he would stay for just over a month.
His makeshift laboratory laid
a charred skeleton on his return.
All his work was gone,
destroyed in the fire.
He was a broken man.
He became a recluse in his home.
His hair turned white overnight.
He just sat everyday in his chair
and looked out the window
from dawn to dusk.
No one could reach him;
it was as if his will to live was gone.

Three years later and Hogarth hadn’t changed.
He would get up every morning
and in his chair would sit.
The war in Europe was over
and celebrations now had begun.
The mighty Germany had fallen;
its leader Hitler was now dead.
Soon the troops would be coming home.
The VE day celebrations were getting well into swing.
While on a farm not far from the valley
something strange was happening.
Ernest Rotherham went out to bring in his cattle
from grazing for milking time.
The sight that greeted his eyes made him cry.
There spread across the field
his cattle lay dead everywhere.
He ran back to his farm
and telephoned for the Vet.
The Vet was on call at the moment,
but on his return, they would send him out.

About twenty miles away
Joe Harper the local Vet
was driving down a county lane.
Bushes grew tall on either side
and from behind them;
he could hear a loud hum.
He stopped the car,
but left the engine running.
He opened the door,
got out and peered through the bushes.
A sharp pain like a knife pierced his back.

To be continued…

poem by David Harris
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 6

It is strongly recommended you read Parts 1- 5 before reading this.

Professor Hogarth watched in horror,
at the returning insects
and what they were carrying.
He questioned himself
about what he had done.
His experiment had gone
well beyond what he dreamt.
It had created a horror unimaginable.
Somehow, they had to be stopped
before it went too far,
if it had not happened all ready.
He had to inform the authorities
and tell them everything.
The monstrous creations
had to be destroyed
or the world would be in peril.
Hogarth picked up the telephone,
telephoned the police station,
and explained to the Inspector in charge
everything that had happened.
He said he needed to talk
to someone from the Government,
as these monsters had to be destroyed.
The Inspector said that he would
report everything to the Army
as they were in charge of the situation.
They would be around to see him that night.
Hogarth replaced the telephone
and sat down to wait for the night to call.

Raymond Constantine sat beside the driver
and watched in horror at what was going on.
If the soldiers had not fired upon the swarm
they would have merely passed overhead.
Having killed one the release
of pheromone from its body
acted as an alarm
causing the rest to become more aggressive
and stinging anything near.
All they could do
was to wait and sit it out.
To venture outside of the vehicle
would be certain death.

Hogarth waited and waited.
Slowly the sun began to set.
He could see their silhouetted form
in the moon light returning to the nest.
The forms that they were carrying
made him shudder with despair.
He watched the time
as the hours ticked by.
He felt like telephoning back to the station
and asking where his visitors were.
A knock on the front door
answered his question.
He answered it and let
Captain Alex Walker and Raymond Constantine in.
They explained why they were late.
That they had been attacked and had to wait.
Hogarth explained to them, his experiment
and how he had suffered a heart attack three years previous.
Then how this year things had been growing larger
than normal including the wasps.
He could only guess that there was a nest
under his shed when it was destroyed
and that the experimental serum had leaked into it.
That it had taken three generations of wasps
before it altered their genetic structure
to make them grow as large as they have.
He could only speculate
that they could even grow larger
in future generation.
Constantine nodded
as Hogarth spoke.
His theory sounded wild and imaginative.
He would have taken it as a flight of fancy
had he not seen it for himself.
They had to be destroyed
and quickly before the new queens
had a chance of escaping
and starting new nests.
As they knew where the nest was located,
preparations had to be made
to eradicate completely.
Hogarth and everyone who lived within the house
would have to be evacuated
while this was done.
Evacuation would have to take place tonight.
At HQ Constantine explained
the situation to the chief of staffs
that had gathered.
The RAF would be able to shoot them
out of the skies
as they emerged from the nest in the morning.
On the ground, the Army
would gather flamethrowers
to ensure that the nest was burnt.
It would take a couple of days to prepare.

Over the next couple of days,
the Army gathered a unit of armoured flamethrowers
into the valley
and positioned them around
the opening of the nest.
As the nest would be made of paper,
it should burn quickly.
The only worry they would have
is those within the nest
would come out and swarm.
When this happened,
the flamethrowers would concentrate
on the swarm.
The RAF fighters would shoot
as many as they could down.
The operation would commence
the following morning.

To be concluded…

5 November 2007

poem by David Harris
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The value and utility of any experiment are determined by the fitness of the material to the purpose for which it is used, and thus in the case before us it cannot be immaterial what plants are subjected to experiment and in what manner such experiment is conducted.

quote by Gregor Mendel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 4

Professor Robert Hogarth sat
and looked out the window,
what he saw each day amazed him.
Where the remnants of his burnt out laboratory,
he watch each day the quickness of the new growth there.
Tiny shrubs were the next day mature plants.
He noted in his journal,
which kept hidden, everything he saw.
Each day the remains of his laboratory
slowly disappeared from sight under a sea of green foliage.
It was not only the plants
that were growing out of proportion.
Other things much more scary had begun to appear.
These made him order that none of his staff
go out during the day under any circumstance.

It was almost dusk when the empty battery was found.
The police notified the Army,
but couldn’t give them no explanation
as to why the soldiers had disappeared,
other than all three men were gone
leaving behind their belongs and their guns.
The Army’s reply was that they would send
their own investigation team down in the morning.

The reports of animal deaths and human disappearances
were mounting and the police were mystified.
They went to the unusual step
of arming their officers on the beat.
Each had to sign for a weapon
and ten round of ammunition
before leaving the station.
Not knowing the threat that had come to the valley,
they were not taking chances.
It was felt that just a truncheon was not enough protection
from what ever was doing the killings adductions.

The night was quiet and no new incidents were reported.
However as the dawn broke
a humming sound broke the stillness of the morning.
John Fairchild and his son Peter
came out of the barn
as several shadows passed over them.
John told his son to get back indoors
as he ran into the barn and grabbed a pitchfork.
Peter ran as fast as he could
to the farmhouse without looking back.
Getting inside he closed the door
and raced to the window to look outside.
He saw his father fighting a giant insect with the pitchfork.
Peter went to the living room
and grabbed his father’s shotgun from the wall,
then went to the drawer where the shotgun shells were kept.
He shoved as many as he could
in his pockets and loaded two into the gun.
He opened the door
to see one of the insects
had knocked his father to the ground
and had its stinger poised.

To be continued…

poem by David Harris
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An Experiment Of Life....

life is an experiment
this poem is, was, and will always be
another experiment
imitating life, art imitating that serious life
that broken heart
mimicking pain
but can never be
the same

life is so beautiful, because of this experiment
shades of colors mixing in the atmosphere
life changing perfumes
hues,
changing shapes, birds, fish, islands
clouds,
never ending drama
conversations without end
whispers without edges

this one too, the one that you have never felt
even before
as you once closed the door
this is a cloud peeping for you
longing
drifting imitating you
changing
clothes, self, shedding off skin
snake, shark,
shoelace,

waters, sands, kiss, arms,
bodies....

just you and me
behind your nape my hush....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To call in the statistician after the experiment is done may be no more than asking him to perform a post-mortem examination: he may be able to say what the experiment died of.

quote by Ronald Fisher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To consult the statistician after an experiment is finished is often merely to ask him to conduct a post mortem examination. He can perhaps say what the experiment died of.

quote by Ronald Fisher
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It is important to experiment and endlessly seek after creating the best possible flavors when preparing foods. That means not being afraid to experiment with various ingredients.

quote by Rocco DiSpirito
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Strange But True 2 - Footsteps On The Stairs

I was a store man in an engineering factory,
during the early 1960’s when this story took place.
The company had rented and old tailor shop
as an extra storeroom just down the road.
It was time to do a stock take,
in the shop there on my own.
I had been in the building many times before on my own.
That day seemed no exception.
The building had three floors,
the ground floor, and the first floor
where I would be working and the second floor,
which had at one time been a flat.
I was seventeen at the time.

Therefore, I began my work
and began counting the stock,
when from the floor above I could hear
what sounded like a woman’s shoes
pacing around on the wooden floor.
My heart began to beat faster,
as I knew I was the only one in the building.
I said to myself if whatever it was
began to descend the stairs, I was going to be gone.
Then it happened,
my dread.
The footsteps reached the stairs
and began to descend.
I dropped what I was doing,
and down to the ground floor ran.
Once outside I locked the only entrance door
and ran back to the factory,
swearing I would not go back there anymore.
A supervisor saw the fear within me.
It took him an hour to calm me down.

He finally persuaded me
to accompany him back to the shop,
so he could prove to me that there was nothing there.
We would search the shop from top to bottom.
I reluctantly agreed.
The first floor that we checked was the one
where I heard the noise.
It was an empty space;
there was nothing there at all,
only wooden floorboards covered with a layer of dust.
No footprints to indicate someone had been walking there.
Everywhere we searched,
but nothing could we find.
Eventually he said what I heard was only in my mind.
A couple of months went by
and a story about the shop emerged.
A young woman had hung herself
on that floor many years before.
Now you may think the story is over now,
and you would be wrong.

Every year in the summer,
we would have some students come to work during their college break
the following year was with no exception.
The two that came were in my charge
and had to move some stock within the tailor shop.
I had to go back to the factory
and would check back on them in a half an hour.
When I returned I found them cowering in the corner.
They accused me of never leaving,
that I would not answer when they called.
I just kept walked about trying to scare them there.
They did not know what I had experienced on that floor,
nor did they know the story of the woman.
The building is no longer there,
pulled down and replaced with offices many years ago.
The mystery remains. Was what I heard made up in my mind?
If this is the case, what did a year later,
did those two students hear?

poem by David Harris
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If your experiment needs statistics, you ought to have done a better experiment.

quote by Ernest Rutherford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Comes - Part 6

(It is suggested that the reader reads Parts 1,2,3,4 and 5 first)

Naval fighters in the vicinity of the Coast Guard flight
last known position flew towards it.
Reaching the area, they noticed
the blue light moving north and commenced their first attack.
Rockets were fired.
Great fountains of water sprouted into the air
as the rockets exploded beneath the surface.
The blue light seemed unaffected
and continued moving northward.
A second attack was launched
and further fountains of water reached out of the sea.

Slowly the blue light got smaller
as the creature dived deeper under the waves.
The fighters returned to base
to be debriefed and have their aircraft refuelled and rearmed.
Military Chiefs concurred that the rockets exploded at depths,
which could not reach the creature.
The only other way was to time the rockets
to explode with delays.

Work began on modifying the rockets
on all search aircraft.
It was tried to estimate how far down
the creature would be swimming
and how long it would take the rockets to reach it.
Each night squadrons comprising of five aircraft to search the seas.

Another month passed before the blue light was again spotted.
Naval fighters from several different countries
moved towards the position.
The first five fighters there commenced their attack.
Rockets were fired hit the water caused splashes
without exploding.
The seconds passed as the aircraft
swooped upwards out of their dive.
As they reached the top of their climb,
the rockets exploded throwing up great fountains of water
and pieces of something.
As the sea calmed a large stain that appeared red
under the moonlight surrounded the area.
The blue light had disappeared.

Deep below the surface
eyes watched as bits of the creature gently floated down.
Some pieces were intercepted by sharks.
Their eyes closed in temporary sadness.
The experiment had been a failure.
One day they would be back to try again.

The End……or is it?

3 October 2009

Author’s Note.

If you have read It Comes and enjoyed it, you might like to read other cliffhanging pieces I have written. The titles are as follows and how many parts there are.

An Invitation To Tea (A Dark Comedy) (3 Parts)
Casebook Of Oliver Cyriax 1# The Burning Bush (4 Parts)
Eyes Of Mr D (5 Parts)
The Hogarth Experiment (6 Parts)

poem by David Harris
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An animal experiment cannot be justifiable unless the experiment is so important that the use of a brain-damaged human would be justifiable.

quote by Peter Singer
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Ray Of Light

Verse:
Zephyr in the sky at night I wonder
Do my tears of mourning sink beneath the sun
She's got herself a universe gone quickly
For the call of thunder threatens everyone

Chorus:

And I feel like I just got home
And I feel
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel

Faster than the speeding light she's flying
Trying to remember where it all began
She's got herself a little piece of heaven
Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one

(chorus)

Quicker than a ray of light
Quicker than a ray of light
Quicker than a ray of light

(verse)

And I feel
Quicker than a ray of light
Then gone for
Someone else shall be there
Through the endless years

She's got herself a universe
She's got herself a universe
She's got herself a universe

And I feel
And I feel
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel

Quicker than a ray of light she's flying
Quicker than a ray of light I'm flying

song performed by by Madonna from Music
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A theory can be proved by experiment; but no path leads from experiment to the birth of a theory.

quote by Manfred Eigen
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A theory can be proved by experiment but no path leads from experiment to the birth of a theory.

quote by Albert Einstein
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Vietnam was as much a laboratory experiment as a war.

quote by John Pilger
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 7

The first streaks for dawn
broke across the Wye Valley.
The Armoured Flamethrowers were poised
around the giant wasps nest.
Just as the sky began to lighten,
pushing away the darkness of the night
the first wasp climbed from the nest.
Long spouts of flame poured over it.
As its body was engulfed in flame
out of the nest, more wasps swarmed.
Suddenly the sky darkened again.
Several RAF bases were scrambled.
Spitfires and Hurricanes crowded the skies.
This time the enemy
was not the Luftwaffe, but insects.
The pilots where not sure what tactics
they were to use
or how the insects were going to react.
They swooped low down the valley
just skimming the treetops.
Then suddenly they were confronted with the enemy.
They peeled off in different directions choosing a target.
The manoeuvrability of the insects was unexpected.
They swerved, dived, hovered
and even seem to reverse.
Several tried to sting the aircrafts.
As more and more the wasps were shot down,
more replaced them.
Several of the aircraft crashed
as more than one wasp landed on them.
Spouts of fames stretched into the sky
from the flamethrowers below.
A second wave of aircraft
flew into the affray,
they seemed to be swarmed by wasps.
Several of the pilots few upwards
drawing a number of the wasps with them.
Aircraft and wasps darted around
the crowed sky in arial combat never before witnessed.
Hundreds of wasps fell from the sky
and were quickly replaced by hundreds more.
As the aircraft began running short of fuel,
they few away from the fight
and others were brought in.
On the ground, the Armoured Flamethrowers
were being attacked as well.
The wasps crawled over the machines
trying to find a way in.
Smoke began to rise from the nest
as more and more wasps lifted into the air.
Quite a number were met
by long stems of flames that engulfed their bodies.
Several with their bodies still alight rose
and smashed into oncoming aircraft
and both plummeted to the ground.
A black cloud from the burning
nest and corpses of the insects rose high above the valley.
Hour after hour, they fought
before the number of wasps decreased.
After six hours, the fight was over.
Bodies of wasps littered the fields
where cattle once grazed.
The RAF flew the length and breath of the valley
to ensure that there were no surviving giant wasps.
Soldiers with flamethrowers walked over the fields
burning every wasp they came across.
None was to be left alive.
The nest had a constant jet of flame poured into it.
When ever it seemed that the fames was going out
gallons of petrol was tipped down the hole of the nest
and the flamethrowers ignited it.
All through the night
and late into the following day
the process was kept up.
They could not afford a
ny eggs or any of the queens to survive.
Finally, it was over.
The charred remains of the wasp’s corpses
were buried in deep pit.
A week after the battle was over
only small scars on the landscape were noticeable.
A year later there were no traces
of what had happened there in the summer of 1945
and life in the Wye Valley returned to normal.
Professor Hogarth sat in his favourite chair
and watched his garden begin to grow again.
Several times, he could have sworn
he thought he saw shadows.
He put them down to his imagination.

The end.

Author’s note:

Although this has been, a work of fiction of which he hopes the readers has derived some pleasure in reading. I wish to leave everyone with this thought. As the world is increasing yearly in population. More and more plants are being genetically modified to increase crop yields. As insects feed off plants and other insects feed off them. One can never tell if the genetic structure of those insects will, itself be modified. We know that it takes generations for species to mutate. What we do not know is whether they are mutating now somewhere in the world. Which leaves us with the question. What if?

David Verdun Harris

6 November 2007

poem by David Harris
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Leaving

Actually leaving is a necessity
I leave many times
And much oftener than usual

Most birds leave to warmer places
I go the other way around
In isolation
In an island of isolation
It may be cold

But I am the only bird in there
It is such a nice feeling

Being one and only
Being isolated

Like an experiment
Life, an experiment.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Storm

The clouds turned to gray
The air turned to cold
And I knew by that day
Some evil would unfold.
It arrived without a warning
Along with the pounding rain
And it was gone by the morning
As violently as it came.
But for that night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
Violently came the wind
Terrorizing with no form
Then came the thunder and lightning,
Arriving, was the storm.
Many trees I saw bent
Then God clapped his mighty hand
While many trees were refusing to fall,
But then, a tree didn't stand.
Rushing came the wind
Pounding came the rain
Crashing came the thunder
Quickly, came my pain.
Underneath my bed I hid
From the terror of the storm
And in pain and terror I cried
In horror and pain I moaned.
That night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
And the rain just kept falling
More tears I began to weep
For the wind just kept calling,
Then that night; I fell asleep.
Then morning she finally came
I awoke to the sound of peace and birds
The sound of thunder and rain was gone
Which had awoke my sleeping world.
Then outside towards the sky I stared,
To the clouds God he did call
I saw Gods hand moving the wind
Commanding the rain not to fall.
Then the sun began to shine
So on my knees I fell to pray
Then again, I began to cry
Thanking God; the storm had went away.

poem by Randy McClave
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The Songs of the Lathes

The fans and the beltings they roar round me.
The power is shaking the floor round me
Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over.
It is good for me to be here!

Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a man that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!

The cranes and the carriers they boom over me,
The bays and the galleries they loom over me,
With their quarter-mile of pillars growing little in the distance--
It is good for me to be here!

The Zeppelins and Gothas they raid over us.
Our lights give warning, and fade over us.
(Seven thousand women keeping quiet in the darkness!)
Oh, it's good for me to be here.

The roofs and the buildings they grow round me,
Eating up the fields I used to know round me;
And the shed that I began in is a sub-inspector's office--
So long have I been here!

I've seen six hundred mornings make our lamps grow dim,
Through the bit that isn't painted round our sky-light rim,
And the sunshine through the window slope according to the seasons,
Twice since I've been here.

The trains on the sidings they call to us
With the hundred thousand blanks that they haul to us;
And we send 'em what we've finished, and they take it where it's wanted,
For that is why we are here!

Man's hate passes as his love will pass.
God made Woman what she always was.
Them that bear the burden they will never grant forgiveness
So long as they are here!

Once I was a woman, but that's by with me.
All I loved and looked for, it must die with me;
But the Lord has left me over for a servant of the Judgment,
And I serve His Judgments here!

Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a son that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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