Sorry to be gone all day. This working for money thing is very time consuming. I’m sure I would be doing a lot better if I had an actual job. But keeping clients happy is exhausting.

On this day in 1902, the great photographer Ansel Adams was born. He is best known for his nature photography. But of course, he did far more than that. In fact, his work spanned seven decades and just about any subject you can think of. Mostly, he was interested in nature, however. People especially know his work of Yosemite. I especially associate him with the Timber Cove Inn, which is one of my favorite places on earth. Like most places in California, Adams spent time there and photographed it. Unfortunately, I can’t find any of those photos online. So here’s just one of many beautiful photographs of his, “Workers Against Mt Williamson”:

The great film director Robert Altman was born in 1925. I don’t know quite what to make of him stylistically. To some extent, I think his brilliance was just in his willingness to do different things. So much of his work was simply playing with genres. That’s particularly true in things like The Long Goodbye and Gosford Park. But he also made films that are just unique like MASH and Nashville and 3 Women. But above all, he made one of my very favorite films, McCabe & Mrs Miller. This following scene from it provides a good idea of the moral universe of the film. The cowboy is probably the most likable character in the whole thing. But don’t get the wrong idea: it isn’t a world where evil triumphs. It just isn’t a world where anything especially triumphs. Everyone just muddles long.

The film writer-director Andrew Bergman is 69 today. I really admire his work. He is one of the greatest comedy writers ever. His script for The In-Laws is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. He is also the true genius behind Blazing Saddles, although as usual, Mel Brooks has done everything he can to minimize the work of his betters. What has always amazed me about Bergman’s films (The Freshman, Soapdish, Striptease) is that they are funny all the way through. A big problem with most comedies is that they stop being funny in the third act. That is never the case with Bergman’s scripts and when he is also directing the comedy continues to the end like a freight train. It’s very possible I should have given the day to him. Unfortunately, like a lot of filmmakers I admire, he doesn’t make films anymore. Here is one of many funny scenes from The In-Laws:

Other birthday: Dutch Golden Age painter Jan de Baen (1633); Classical composer Adalbert Gyrowetz (1763); physicist Ludwig Boltzmann (1844); playwright Russel Crouse (1893); psychologist Elizabeth Holloway Marston (1893); architect Louis Kahn (1901); choreographer Gillian Lynne (88); actor Sidney Poitier (87); singer Nancy Wilson (77); director Mike Leigh (71); Patty Hearst (60); MST3K creator Joel Hodgson (54); basketball player Charles Barkley (51); actor French Stewart (50); model Cindy Crawford (48); musician Kurt Cobain (1967); and actor Lili Taylor (47).

The day, however, belongs to the great writer Richard Matheson who was born on this day in 1926. He is best known for having written I Am Legend, which was the basis for four feature films, including the film that terrified me as a child, The Last Man on Earth. But what is remarkable is just how much Matheson wrote. So much of the great stuff from The Twilight Zone was written by him, including the classic “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet.” He wrote the Star Trek episode “The Enemy Within” where Kirk is turned into his good and evil parts. He wrote a number of Roger Corman’s Edgar Allan Poe films, as well as the similar (and wonderful) The Comedy of Terrors. And he wrote the short story and screenplay for Steven Spielberg’s television movie Duel. He also wrote roughly 30 novels and countless short stories. He was truly an amazing writer.

Happy birthday Richard Matheson!

On this day in 1812, the great novelist Charles Dickens was born. I admire him as a writer. He was a master storyteller. Just the same, I think that I’ve only ever read A Tale of Two Cities and The Adventures of Oliver Twist. I look at David Copperfield and Bleak House and (Good God!) The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, and I just can’t bring myself to pick up the books. There is a difference between pacing and plodding. I have a theory. Every book ever written could be improved by being cut by 10%. The 19th century novels could generally be cut by 50%. Just saying.

The comedian Emo Philips is 58 today. I don’t have much to say about him. It is just an opportunity to present some of his act. He is one of the greats:

Other birthdays: philosopher Thomas More (1478); novelist Laura Ingalls Wilder (1867); mathematician G H Hardy (1877); great songwriter Eubie Blake (1887); saxophonist King Curtis (1934); actor Pete Postlethwaite (1946); actor James Spader (54); total fucktard Garth Brooks (52); comedian Chris Rock (49); and another fucktard Ashton Kutcher (36).

The day, however, belongs to the great American novelist Sinclair Lewis who was born on this day in 1885. Like most people, I know him from two novels: It Can’t Happen Here, about fascism coming to America in the form of a Huey Long or a Father Coughlin; and Elmer Gantry, a satirical novel about religion in the 1920s. The great thing about both novels is that they are as relevant today as ever. We have our fascist leaning politicians today, but they don’t offer economic populism, they offer social populism. And Elmer Gantry would require basically no changes to modernize it to today. Of course, Lewis is much more than just a political writer. He is arguably better than John Steinbeck in terms of creating vivid characters. There is perhaps no higher compliment I could pay.

Happy birthday Sinclair Lewis!

Tom Wilkinson is 66 today. He is one of my very favorite actors. He first came to my attention in The Full Monty, where he plays a character whose authority has caused him to be estranged from other people. The part is incredibly well written, but Wilkinson’s performance adds greak depth to it. I really thought he stole the show, in a show filled with great performances. Later, of course, he played Hugh Fennyman, the loan shark who falls in love with the theater in Shakespeare in Love. Although it is kind of a silly role, he makes it completely believable. Most recently, he was wonderful in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. But the performance I most associate with him is Arthur, the manic-depressive lawyer in Michael Clayton. I love this scene where he effectively plays two characters at once:

Jennifer Jason Leigh is 52 today. I think she is a fine actor. I especially liked her in The Hudsucker Proxy (doing her best Rosalind Russell), Dolores Claiborne, and eXistenZ. But to be perfectly honest, I’ve long had a crush on her.

Other birthdays: German Romanticism painter Carl Spitzweg (1808); outlaw Belle Starr (1848); presidential candidate and sole hole shoe wearer Adlai Stevenson (1900); actor John Carradine (1906); film director Michael Mann (71); musician Al Kooper (70); actor Charlotte Rampling (68); comedian Christopher Guest (66); actor Barbara Hershey (66); comedian Tim Meadows (53); actor Laura Linney (50); and actor Nora Zehetner (33).

The day, however, belongs to the writer William S Burroughs who was born on this day in 1914. He is best known for the novel Naked Lunch. It is an interesting book. An amazing book! But I don’t think it works that well. It has amazing highs though. Like a lot of great art, it is an important book because it was trailblazing. It inspired generations of writers. As I’ve noted before, the science fiction legend William Gibson would have been nothing if not for Burroughs. But for me, Burroughs was at his best in his first novel, Junkie: Confessions of an Unredeemed Drug Addict. Admittedly, I’m interested in the subject matter. But I still prefer the more straightforward narrative.

Ultimately, Burroughs was a lazy writer. And it is doubtful if he ever would have gotten anything published had it not been for his Beat Generation friends—most especially Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. That’s not to minimize what Burroughs did. I think it is often the case that people who are hung up on form and technique aren’t able to make really original contributions to the art. And ultimately, what Burroughs offers is something quite unique: honesty. Even in the books I most love, that is in short supply.

Happy birthday William S Burroughs!

On this day in 1905, Ayn Rand was born. It can’t be overstated just what a mediocrity she was as a thinker. She’s a good example of how the less people know about a subject the more they overestimate their competency. She was convinced that the only person she owed any debt to was Aristotle. This was due to the fact that she didn’t understand many of the philosophers that she claimed to have read. That’s especially true of Kant. She was also a dreadful novelist. But the big problem with Rand is not that she was so bad and so wrong, it is that so many conservatives look to her work for enlightenment. They do this because there really is no one else who tells conservatives what they want to hear. But that makes sense: she was an awful person who continues to tell awful people that they are just great.

The great saxophone player Stan Getz was born in 1927. He was the white Lester Young. At least in the beginning. It is certainly true that he owed a great deal to Young. But he went on to record just about every form of music with just about every musician. He was a great collaborator and left us with an amazing amount of music. So much, in fact, that I’ve only heard a small fraction of it. Of course, he is best known for “The Girl from Ipanema.” But here he is with John Coltrane (!) and Oscar Peterson in 1960:

Two models were born today. First is Farrah Fawcett who was born in 1947. Second is Christie Brinkley who is 60. I mention them only to relate one of my favorite jokes.

That joke says more about male culture than a library of sociology books.

The singer-songwriter Shakira is 37 today. I don’t know much about her, but years ago, I heard her song “Animal City” and I loved it. It’s got this great Im-VI-V chord progression that we just don’t hear in popular music. The production on the song is also great, but unlike most pop songs, it works with just a guitar. Anyway, check it out:

Other birthdays: actor Duane Jones (1936); comedian Tom Smothers (77); singer-songwriter Graham Nash (72); and actor Brent Spiner (65).

The day, however, belongs to the great novelist James Joyce who was born on this day in 1882. When I was younger, I loved his short stories. (I still do!) So I decided to go all the way and read Finnegans Wake. And I have tried to read it many times since then, most recently just last year. I don’t think I’m going to try again. It is just impossible. “Riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.” Oh my! It is clear that Finnegans Wake was an example of a great artist becoming too in love with his work. Ulysses certainly is his masterwork, if for no other reason than that it is the sweet spot between classical story telling and ostentatious intellectualism. It is still tough going. I would recommend anyone who is interested in Joyce read Dubliners. The man could write! The novels are more important than they are enjoyable.

Happy birthday James Joyce!

On this day in 1894, the great film director John Ford was born. I do, however, think he’s a bit overrated. There are certain directors who have a certain buzz associated with them. Another good example is Hitchcock. I would argue that this does not apply to Welles, who has a different problem where a relatively small number of people vastly overrate him and the rest have never seen anything but Citizen Kane. It is still an indictment of the Academy that Ford’s How Green Was My Valley beat Kane for Best Picture. Regardless, Ford made some unquestionably great films. I especially like Stagecoach and The Grapes of Wrath.

Clark Gable was born in 1901. He is most associated with Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. And he does put in a very stylish performance that is hard not to love. The truth is, I very much like seeing him in any film. But what is most close to my heart is his role of Peter Warne in It Happened One Night. And, of course, this scene in particular:

Political commentator Fred Barnes is 71. He is as conservative as you can be—a Fox News regular and executive editor of The Weekly Standard. I mention him only to point out how conservatives mislead without lying. The McLaughlin Group was skewed so far to the right that Barnes came off as a moderate and even slightly liberal. This was a big show for the supposedly liberal PBS. Of course, since that time, Fox News has perfected this approach where conservative commentator Juan Williams comes off as a liberal. That is the most deceptive thing a news organization can do, and when it comes to economic issues, all of the networks do this. And they all claim to be objective.

Soul legend Rick James was born in 1948. I didn’t realize that he had died at just 56. Sad. But here’s his blockbuster “Super Freak”:

Actor and musician Bill Mumy is 60 today. He is best know for the part Will Robinson in Lost in Space. I know him even better as the go-to actor for 1970s television shows who needed someone to play a hippy. But he is also well know for his band Barnes & Barnes. Here they are doing their classic “Fish Heads”:

Other birthdays: lexicographer Emile Littre (1801); magician William Davenport (1841); discoverer of the antiproton, Emilio Segre (1905); cabaret singer Hildegarde (1906); the last man to totally sell out the Russian people, Boris Yeltsin (1931); comedian Garrett Morris (77); musician Del McCoury (75); my favorite Monty Python member, Terry Jones (72); actor Brandon Lee (1965); and pernicious propagandist Andrew Breitbart (1969).

The day, however, belongs to the great humorist S J Perelman who was born on this day in 1904. He is probably best known for co-writing a couple of Max Brothers films. But I never know what to make of that. I assume that these later films were completely scripted and not based upon their vaudeville act. On the other hand, I’m not sure just how funny those routines would have been without them. Regardless, I know Perelman from his short fiction in The New Yorker. I’ve always thought he was funnier and more consistent than Thurber. Ever humble, he wrote of himself, “Before they made S J Perelman they broke the mold.” I highly recommend checking out his work if you aren’t familiar. Most of the Most of S J Perelman is an excellent choice.

Happy birthday S J Perelman!

There are a lot of great and interesting birthdays, but I’m going to have to make this quick because of filial obligations.

On this day in 1807, the great tragic character of the Civil War Robert E Lee was born. I think it is important to see him in the context of his time. In his time and place, we would probably have to call him a liberal. But was he a slave owner? Absolutely. Was he an apologist for slavery? Absolutely. And above all else, did his military brilliance prolong the institution of slavery and cause hundreds of thousands of more casualties in the war? Almost certainly. He was not the icon that he has come to represent, but who is? I don’t doubt, however, had he been born in Philadelphia, he would have been against slavery and be a help in ending the war sooner.

The great post-impressionist painter Paul Cezanne was born in 1839. When I was young, I really didn’t like him. Now, he is probably my favorite of the bunch. I’m not exactly sure why this is except that when I was younger, pure impressionism with its hazy realism appealed to me. Perhaps it is the mathematician in me, but I really like the way his work is constantly out of kilter—but in a very appealing way. Although I like his portraits more, you can see it most clearly in something like the following, Maison Maria on the way to the Chateau Noir:

Film director Richard Lester is 82 today. He is quite good and I’m very fond of some of his films. In particular, he directed A Hard Day’s Night, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, and The Three Musketeers (and its “sequel”). But here’s what Wikipedia say about him, “Lester is notable for his work with The Beatles in the 1960s and his work on the Superman film series in the 1980s.” Okay. Lester also directed Help! So what?! But the Superman films? Really?! He made some great films and I suppose that the Superman films were okay. But what’s best about Lester is directorial wit. And there isn’t much of that on display in those later blockbusters.

Other birthdays: the great electrical engineer James Watt (1736); positivist Auguste Comte (1798); anarchist philosopher when it didn’t mean you were ignorant or just totally lacking in empathy, Lysander Spooner (1808); critic Alexander Woollcott (1887); actor Jean Stapleton (1923); actor Tippi Hedren (84); independent filmmaker Larry Clark (71); increasingly cadaverous Dolly Parton (68); singer-songwriter Robert Palmer (1949); actor Katey Sagal (60); comedian Paul Rodriguez (59); businessman Thomas Kinkade (1958); and journalist Martin Bashir (51).

The day however, belongs to the great writer Edgar Allan Poe who was born on this day in 1809. There is no writer whose stature increased so much in my mind during the course of my lifetime. I read quite a lot of Poe when I was younger, but it didn’t strike me as particularly great. It was just a lot more fun than the other stuff on offer at the school library. But now, I read Poe in context and I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say that his work was revolutionary. And as a writer of fiction myself (or at least one who attempts), his use of first person narrative is amazing. I think “The Black Cat” is actually a better story because it shows the disintegration of the narrator’s mind. But “The Tell-Tale Heart” is shorter and so easier to get people to listen to. Here is Vincent Price performing it, as it is written, just as crazy at the beginning as the end:

Happy birthday Edgar Allan Poe!

I am sorry to report that two icons of my youth have died today. The first is a man we all know as simply, “The Professor.” Of course, that’s just the character that he played on Gilligan’s Island. He was, of course, an actual human being named Russell Johnson. And you know what? He was actually a hunka hunka burning love. He was a good looking guy, which I define as, “I’d definitely have rather looked like him!” He could have been a movie star and as it turns out he had a really good career. I’m always seeing old films that he’s in, like This Island Earth. But of course, he will always be “The Professor.” Even to this day, people in my family often refer to me as Gilligan because I have roughly his coloring and have long been painfully skinny. (No more!) But “The Professor” is more my kind of guy. (By the way, his actual name was Roy Hinkley.) He fixes problems, he doesn’t make them. He was a botanist and I am a physicist (although he sure was good at electronics). We both had BS and PhD degrees, but I have an MS and he, for some strange reason, had an MA. So he’s cool with me and I’m sad that he has died, but he was 89. Here is a great bit from a speech he gave in his later years at MIT, “The Professor has all sorts of degrees, including one from this very institution! And that’s why I can make a radio out of a coconut, and not fix a hole in a boat!” We will miss Russell Johnson but we will always have The Professor.

The other icon is a man who is less well know, but still an icon of my young, a man I know of simply as, “Reuben Kincaid.” Now if you are old enough to remember The Partridge Family–Brady Bunch wars, you probably know him as that guy who was on The Partridge Family who you never really understood the purpose of. If you were a little older, or if you still think about the show like some losers I am, you know that he was their agent. Reuben Kincaid was played by Dave Madden. He didn’t have the kind of career that Johnson had. I believe he started as a stand-up comedian and have limited success with that. But eventually he made it to Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In which led to The Partridge Family and eventually Alice. He was 82.

On this day in 1908, the musical comedy legend Ethel Merman was born. When I was younger, I thought she was kind of a joke. That’s the problem with being so successful, you can become a cliche. But over time, I came to see that she’s absolutely great. Here she is with another Broadway legend, Mary Martin, doing a medley of many of their hits. It will make you feel better about life, I’m almost certain. (Extra musical geek points for every show you can name, except for Annie Get Your Gun and South Pacific—you are expected to know those!)

The great writer Susan Sontag was born in 1933. I mostly know her for her excellent essays. But she wrote and did so much more than that. That’s not to say that I completely agree with her. She was controversial—explicitly so. But if a public intellectual does not piss off a lot of people, she isn’t doing her job. And if Susan Sontag hadn’t driven Camille Paglia to fits of apoplexy, I don’t know what the point of life would be. One of my great desires in life is just to make Paglia angry by telling her something like, “You’ve spent the second half of your career in one big apologia for very clearly blaming rape victims for the crimes committed against them. Do you miss the days when you were still relevant?” Sontag, now dead over 9 years is still relevant. And just tell me, who ever wrote a better sentence than, “Mozart, Pascal, Boolean algebra, Shakespeare, parliamentary government, baroque churches, Newton, the emancipation of women, Kant, Balanchine ballets, et al don’t redeem what this particular civilization has wrought upon the world.” I don’t necessarily agree with that, but it raises the kinds of questions that we should always be asking ourselves so that we can become better than we are.

Other birthdays: composer Niccolo Piccinni (1728); screenwriter Ruth Rose (1896); one of the greatest film editors of all time, Margaret Booth (1898); inventor Frank Zamboni (1901); hamburger tycoon Carl Karcher (1917); singer-songwriter Jim Stafford (70); country music star Ronnie Milsap (68); and the great film director John Carpenter (66).

The day however, belongs to the great Robert Service who was born on this day in 1874. He is known for his poems about the Yukon. But the truth is that he was something of a fraud. He wasn’t a prospector. He worked at a bank before moving to Whitehorse. There he hung out and listened to stories. I’m not saying this invalidates him. I think he always wanted to be a performer and writer. And his work is good. He wrote the kind of poetry that people still enjoy reading to this day. The best example of this is “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” This came about because Service was talking to a prospector who told him about a partner who he had to cremate on the trail. So he turned that story into a really compelling and funny poem. Service had a good sense of humor that he showed on many occasions. This is my favorite. You could just read it, but here is Service himself reciting. Note the very old style of reading it:

Happy birthday Robert Service!

As I made some mention of back a few weeks ago, I had entered into a depressive phase. I always say that I am lucky because in general, my manic-depressive cycle is minor compared to many people who suffer greatly from it. And I also claim that my depressive phases tend to be short. All of that is true, but it isn’t always true. I think my writing of the last few weeks shows that I’m not that into it. I keep hoping that this ends, but I’m afraid it is seeping out in my normal relationships. Yesterday, my older sister was grilling me about signs she has seen of my depression. I denied it all. There’s nothing so tiresome as talk about all that. Writing about it, however… Given that things are more anonymous and that generally, most people didn’t think I’d last this long, I have the opportunity of being more honest. I’m not the suicide type, but I have been fantasizing about dying recently. I rather think it will come to pass. The idea that I might live another 30 years is unthinkable. Of course, just imagine my living to be 100. It would be the ultimate proof of an evil God. What could I possibly have done that is so bad as to justify such punishment? Anyway, I tell you all this as an apology and a reminder. I’m sorry if my writing of late has been uninspired. But remember (you and me, both): soon I will be feeling better and have more to say that is worth listening to. Until then, here is another (Insert: exhausted yawn) birthday post!

On this day in 1762, Constanze Mozart was born. I was inclined to give her the day, but alas, that idea only echoed in my brain for a while. (Note: pun!) There are two things I find really interesting about her. One is that Mozart loved her. She wasn’t anything especially great, but then, when they met, neither was the great composer. By that time, he had lost all the boy genius allure and few people wanted to see him perform. And he still wasn’t the great composer that he would become—although still greater than most composers of his time. The other thing is that for the longest time, Mozart biographers blamed Constanze for all of the couple’s financial problems. It was said that she didn’t know how to run the household and all kinds of other garbage. Of course, after Mozart died, she managed his estate extremely well and actually became rather wealthy. Here is the Requiem (which she was responsible for getting finished with Mozart’s student—and a great composer in his own right—Franz Xaver Süssmayr) just for her:

This one’s fun. I get to tell a secret. When Andrea was a little girl, she had a crush on Mr. Green Jeans on the television show Captain Kangaroo. In one of the episodes that I’ve written of The Post-Postmodern Comedy Hour, I use that fact for what I think is a very funny joke. Now that I think about it, the whole show has a lot of references to that kid’s show that I never really liked. In particular, I’ve used Mr. Bunny Rabbit, although in my version, he writes poetry and is the reincarnation of William Wordsworth. I like my comedy erudite, damn it!

Anyway, Hugh Brannum was born in 1910. He is best known for playing the part of Mr. Green Jeans. But he was a very accomplished musician. He was associated with the singer Fred Waring, for whom he wrote and arranged gobs of music. Leave it to Andrea to have a crush on a guy who, without her knowledge, was actually really cool.

I had no idea that Walter Mondale was still alive. He’s 86 years old today. I bring him up only to say that he didn’t lose the 1984 presidential campaign because he was too liberal. He lost because the economy was good and that you can credit to Paul Volcker. And we smart Americans re-elected a president who was clearly in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. Aren’t you proud to be an American?

Other birthdays: French surrealist Yves Tanguy (1900); the great novelist Stella Gibbons (1902); highly successful charlatan Jeane Dixon (1904); I don’t care what they say, proto-abstract expressionist Nicolas de Stael (1914); actor Jane Wyman (1917); great record producer and finder of talent Sam Phillips (1923); poet W D Snodgrass (1926); great actor Robert Duvall (83); animator Hayao Miyazaki (73); actor Diane Keaton (68); and actor Clancy Brown (55).

The day, however, belongs to Umberto Eco (Eco! Echo!) who is 82 today. I most like him because of The Name of the Rose, which is one of the best novels I have ever read. I’ve also read a number of his essays. He’s a brilliant man. What I couldn’t do was read Foucault’s Pendulum. I tried. I’m sure it’s good. But the beginning really made me think that this might be an “unreliable” narrator and I really don’t much like that. But I will always love him for The Name of the Rose. If you haven’t read it, please do. And if you have seen the movie, forget it. The movie is pathetic. (Yes Bob, the sex scene with Valentina Vargas and Christian Slater is really great.) Anyway, he’s a great thinker and a great writer.

Happy birthday Umberto Eco!

Afterword

I don’t think of myself as suffering from depression. Clearly, I suffer from some manic-depression kind of thing because my highs are much higher than those of others and my lows are lower—sometimes frighteningly so. The most clear problem in my life is a high level of anxiety. And some day, I might have the money to get that treated. Regardless, I don’t wish I were someone else. The devil you know…

Update (5 January 2014 8:17 pm)

Okay, maybe I was too harsh. I found the movie The Name of the Rose on youtube. It is nowhere near as good as the book, but the film is not too bad. And it has a bunch of great European actors. Check it out if you like:

[You know YouTube! The film is no longer available. But here is a very good scene from it, although the aspect ratio is screwed up. Still quite good. -FM]

Update (5 January 2014 11:10 pm)

One big difference between the book and the movie is that the movie kills off Bernardo Gui at the end. And he is just as vile in the book. As I recall, he simply flees when the peasants revolt. Eco couldn’t kill him off in the book, because he was a real guy who lived to be about 70. As Inquisitors go, he probably wasn’t particularly bad. But we know about what those people did because of all his writing on the subject. In fact, Practica Inquisitionis Heretice Pravitatis (Conduct of the Inquisition into Heretical Wickedness) is pretty much an early 14th century how-to book for aspiring Inquisitors. Here is a good example of his thinking, On the Albigensians. What you see is the same thing I see with Christians today. Different Christian sects just hate each other over the most minor theological differences. You can well imagine what kind of “Christian love” Gui meted out to these “Manichaean heretics.”