Farce

Farce (pronounced fahrs)

(1) To stuff; to cram (obsolete).

(2) To make fat; to swell out (obsolete).

(3) To render pompous (obsolete).

(4) In the Roman Catholic Church, an alternative form of farse (to insert vernacular paraphrases into a Latin liturgy).

(5) A light, humorous production (plays, television film etc) play in which the plot depends upon the exploitation of improbable (or even impossible) situations rather than upon the development of character.

(6) The genre of comedy represented by works of this kind

(7) Humor of the type displayed in such works.

(8) Something foolish; a mockery; a ridiculous sham, a ludicrous situation or action.

(9) In cooking, forcemeat (a mixture of finely chopped and seasoned foods, usually containing egg white, meat or fish, etc., used as a stuffing or served alone).

(10) To add witty material to a speech or composition.

1300–1350: From the Middle English noun fars (stuffing), from the Middle French farce, from the Vulgar Latin farsa, noun use of feminine of Latin farsus, from the earlier fartus (stuffed), past participle of the verb farcīre (to stuff) which Middle English picked up as farsen, from the Old French farsir & farcir, from Latin farciō (to cram, stuff).  It was a doublet of farse.  The origin of the Latin farcire (to stuff, cram) is of uncertain origin but some etymologists suggest it may be connected with the primitive Indo-European bhrekw- (to cram together).  Farce in the fourteenth century first meant the chopped-meat stuffing used in cooking and farced into dishes.  The idea of a scene or plotline of “ludicrous satire or low comedy” being interpolated into a play was first described as “a farcing and thus soon ‘a farce’”) in the 1520s, while the dramatic sense of a “ludicrous satire; low comedy” was from the French use of farce (comic interlude in a mystery play) was a sixteenth century development while in English, the generalized sense of “a ridiculous sham” came into use in the 1690s.  In literary use, the companion term is tragicofarcical (having elements of both tragedy and farce).  Farce is a noun & verb, farced & farcing are verbs and and farcical is an adjective; the noun plural is plural farces.  The adjective unfarced (also as un-farced) is used in cooking to distinguished a dish not farced from one farced; it is not used of plays or literature.

The now rare noun infarction first appeared in the medical literature in the 1680s as a noun of action from the Latin infarcire (to stuff into), the construct being in- )in the sense of “into” (from the primitive Indo-European root en- (in) + farcīre (to stuff).  In pathology it was widely used of various morbid local conditions but as technology and techniques improved and more specific descriptions evolved used declined and the early twentieth century it tended to be restricted to certain conditions caused by localized faults in the circulatory system.  The construct of the noun forcemeat (also as force-meat) was force (“to stuff (as a variant of farce)) + meat.  The term first appeared in cookbooks in the late 1670s (although the technique (as “farcing”) dated back centuries; it described “mincemeat, meat chopped fine & seasoned, then used as a stuffing”.

Karl Marx (left) who turned G.W.F. Hegel (right) "upside down on his head".

Nowhere did Karl Marx (1818-1883) ever write “history repeats itself” but the phrase “history repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce” is often attributed to him and has long been an undergraduate favourite.  The origin of that was in the first chapter of his essay Der 18te Brumaire des Louis Napoleon (18th Brumaire of Louis Bonapatre (1852)) in which, writing of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770–1831) he wrote: “Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice.  He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.”  The “second time as farce” notion seems to have been something picked up from his benefactor & collaborator German philosopher Friedrich Engels (1820–1895) who a few months earlier, in one of his letters to Marx, had observed: “it really seems as though old Hegel, in the guise of the World Spirit, were directing history from the grave and, with the greatest conscientiousness, causing everything to be re-enacted twice over, once as grand tragedy and the second time as rotten farce, Caussidière for Danton, L. Blanc for Robespierre, Barthélemy for Saint-Just, Flocon for Carnot, and the moon-calf together with the first available dozen debt-encumbered lieutenants for the little corporal and his band of marshals. Thus the 18th Brumaire would already be upon us.”

In Zur Kritik der Hegelschen Rechtsphilosophie (Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right (1843), Marx had made a similar point:  “A coup d’état is sanctioned as it were in the opinion of the people if it is repeated.  Thus, Napoleon was defeated twice and twice the Bourbons were driven out.  Through repetition, what at the beginning seemed to be merely accidental and possible, becomes real and established.”  Marx did take a few interpretative liberties with Hegel.  When in Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Weltgeschichte (Lectures on the Philosophy of History (a compilation of lectures delivered at University of Berlin in 1822, 1828 & 1830)), Hegel compared nature where “there is nothing new under the Sun,” with history where there is always development he was describing historical progression in terms of the Hegelian philosophy which holds that history follows the dictates of reason and that the natural progress of history is due to the outworking of absolute spirit.  Still, Marx did boast that to make use of Hegel's dialectic he had to “turn him upside down on his head” so perhaps he felt entitled to kick the dead man’s ideas around a bit.

The farce on stage and in literature

In literary use, the farce is a form of comedy where the purpose is to “provoke mirth of the simplest and most basic kind: roars of laughter rather than smiles; humour rather than wit.  It is associated with, but must be distinguished from, burlesque; it is with clowning, buffoonery and knockabout slapstick, a form of ‘low’ comedy in which the basic elements are: exaggerated physical action (often repeated), exaggeration of character and situation in which absurd, improbable (even impossible ones and therefore fantastical) events and surprises in the form of unexpected appearances and disclosures”.  In farce, character and dialogue are nearly always subservient to plot and situation with plots often complex, events succeeding with a sometimes bewildering rapidity.

Quite when the first farces were performed is not known but historians seem to agree it would certainly have predated anything in the literary tradition.  Elements recognizably “farces” exist in some surviving plays from Antiquity in which “low comedy” in the shape of ridiculous situations and ludicrous results, ribaldry and junketings are interpolated into works of satire and studies of the farce have identified the device in Greek satyr play and the Roman fabak.  Technically though, the first plays actually described as “farces” were French works from the late Middle Ages where there were “stuffings” described as “between scenes”: comic interludes between the “serious” parts in religious or liturgical drama.  Usually, such “stuffings” were written in octosyllabic (containing eight syllables) couplets with an average length of some 500 lines.  These interpolations poked fun at the foibles and vices of everyday life (particularly at commercial knavery and conjugal infidelity, two subjects with enduring audience appeal).

The Taming of the Shrew, Barbican Theatre, June 2019.  For the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company), Justin Audibert (b 1981) re-imagined the England of the 1590s as a matriarchy in which Baptista Minola is seeking to sell off her son Katherine to the highest bidder.

Later, in French theatre, these farcical interludes developed into a form of their own: the “one-act farce”, pieces which were in their time something like to short-form clips which TikTok made a business model.  The contemporary English Mystery Plays also often included one or more comic interludes and interestingly, demonic & grotesque figures behaving in a buffoonish manner (letting off fireworks something of a theme) appeared with much greater frequency than in France.  In the time of the Morality Plays, apart from aberrations like William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Taming of the Shrew (1592) & The Comedy of Errors (circa 1593), there was little written for the English stage which could truly be described as farce but by the time the genre of “Restoration comedy” (known sometimes as “Comedy of manners”) had become established in the late seventeenth century, farce was back to celebrate the re-opening of public stage performances, banned for the previous 18 years by the Puritan regime.  For better or worse, farce has been with us ever since.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

It can be difficult to decided whether “farce”, “fiasco” or “debacle” best applies in particular circumstances.  Indeed, it seems difficult to formulate anything close to a “rule” and every situation will need to be judged on its merits.  However, as a general principle, the pattern of use seems to indicate: (1) Farce is used in a way which hints at the theatrical tradition: real-life situations that are ridiculously chaotic and ludicrous, almost comical in their dysfunction. (2) A fiasco is a total utter failure, usually in a public and humiliating way when things have gone very wrong, typically due to poor planning or execution. (3) A debacle is an ignominious failure and one which often implies a broader, more significant collapse, sometimes with serious consequences.

Count Galeazzo Ciano (1903–1944; Italian foreign minister 1936-1943, left), Lord Halifax (1881–1959; UK foreign secretary 1938-1940 centre left), Neville Chamberlain (1869–1940; UK prime minister 1937-1940, centre right) and Benito Mussolini (1883–1945; Duce & Italian prime minister 1922-1943, right), Rome, January 1939.

The idea of farce is cross-culturally global but the Italians have the best phrase expressing the idea: una grande limonata (a big lemonade).  In colloquial use, una grande limonata conveys the notion of “much display, little substance; an overblown spectacle that ultimately proves insubstantial”.  The direct English equivalent was the US coining “a big nothingburger”.  Some three months after signing the infamous Munich Agreement that rubber-stamped Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) takeover of Czechoslovakia, Chamberlain and Halifax visited Rome to confer with Mussolini.  Although it had long been obvious the Duce had been drawn into the German orbit, British foreign policy was still based on the hope war could be avoided and, having seen appeasement prevent immediate conflict over Berlin's demands about Czechoslovakia, the hope was to find a way to appease Rome, the goal at the time little more ambitious than the maintenance of the status quo in the Mediterranean.  Even in 1939, the UK's Foreign Office still believed Mussolini might be susceptible to "civilizing influences" in a way it had (belatedly) become obvious Hitler would not.  In retrospect pointless, the meeting, held between 11-14 January 1939, was the last attempt through official channels to tempt the Duce away from the entanglement with Hitler to which, in reality, he was already committed although he certainly didn't expect war to be declared as soon as things transpired.  The spirit of the meeting was well captured in Ciano's diary and while the count's entries are not wholly reliable, he was one of the century's notable diarists, an astute observer and, too clever to be much bothered by principles, painted vivid pictures of some of the great events of those troubled years.  Mussolini, flattered by Hitler and  already seeing himself as a Roman emperor, must have thought he was being visited by the ghosts of the past, Chamberlain looking like the provincial lord-mayor he'd once been and Halifax the archbishop he probably wished he'd become.  Ciano's diary entry read:

“In substance, the visit was kept on a minor tone, since both the Duce and myself are scarcely convinced of its utility. . . . How far apart we are from these people!" Ciano noted in his diary.  "It is another world."  After dinner with Mussolini he recorded the Duce's feelings: "These men are not made of the same stuff as the Francis Drakes and the other magnificent adventurers who created the British Empire.  These, after all, are the tired sons of a long line of rich men, and they will lose their Empire,... The British do not want to fight. They try to draw back as slowly as possible, but they do not want to fight."  Whatever other mistakes he may have made, on that night in Rome, Mussolini made no error in his summary of the state of thought in Downing Street and the Foreign Office.  "Our conversations with the British have ended" Ciano concluded and "Nothing was accomplished."  He closed the diary that evening with the note "I have telephoned Ribbentrop (Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi Foreign Minister 1938-1945) that the visit was a big lemonade [ie a farce].”

The farce of excommunication

Presumably the Spanish nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado chose their words with care when in June 2024 they condemned the Holy See’s action against them as “the farce of excommunication” although whether they were still within the holy communion of the Church to be excommunicated may be a moot point because the sisters insisted they had already severed all connections with the Vatican and their departure from the “Conciliar Church” was “unanimous and irreversible”.  The exchange of views between Rome and Castile-Leon came after the sisters declined to attend the ecclesial tribunal of Burgos to which they had been summoned, their notice of no-attendance transmitted to the Archbishop of Burgos with a hint of rejection of modernity: they used the fax machine.  Informing the archbishop they had left the Conciliar Church “freely, voluntarily, unanimously and in a spirit of joy”, their fax message asserted the ecclesiastical tribunal had “no jurisdiction” over them since their separation the previous month which their said was prompted by the “larceny” of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II; 1962-1965), adding that no pope after Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) was “legitimate”.

Being careful with words, it must be assumed the sisters were thus declaring Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) an “illegitimate pope” rather than an “anti-pope”, a distinction of some significance to canon lawyers.  “Illegitimate pope” is a general term for any pope whose election or claim to the papacy is deemed invalid or improper according to the canonical laws and practices of the Church; such a state can arise from procedural failures or the appointee lacking the requisite qualifications.  An “anti-pope” is one who makes a claim to the papacy in opposition to the pope recognized by the majority of the Catholic Church, a status which is of any consequence only if such a person has a significant following among Catholics.  Typically, anti-popes have existed during periods of schism.

Belorado Convento de Santa María de Bretonera.

Founded in 1358, in 1458 the monastery was damaged during one of the feudal battles which for more than two centuries would from time-to-time briefly flare, the structure repaired two years later.  Built in the Gothic style, there are Baroque style altar-pieces from the seventeenth century and a pipe organ dating from 1799.  The Monastery of Santa Clara is presided over by nuns of the order of the Poor Clares.

So, being critical mass theorists like any good Catholics, the sisters would understand that at the moment, Francis “has the numbers” but they certainly seem to be attempting something schismatic, their 70-page manifesto explaining that henceforth the nuns would follow the spiritual leadership of Pablo de Rojas Sánchez-Franco (b 1982), a self-styled “bishop” and professed admirer of the fascist dictator Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975); De Rojas-Franco was excommunicated in 2019.  Like the sisters, Mr De Rojas-Franco is a sedisvacantist (one who regards all popes after Pius XII to be illegitimate heads of the Church; in this view, the Holy See in Rome is actually sede vacante (vacant throne) and Francis a heretic and usurper to be spoken of only as “Mr Bergoglio”.  One implication of this is that many post 1958 ordinations are also invalid so any penalty or canonical sanction “imposed by those who are not valid or legitimate bishops, and who have no power over souls” are thus null and void”.  In other words, “Mr Bergoglio, you can’t excommunicate us”, hence the description of Rome’s edict as a farce.

Chocolates and biscuits made by nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado.  Presumably, chocolates made by heretics are more sinful than those made by the faithful.

So the ecclesiastical battle lines have been drawn and the Holy See has clearly decided the chirothecœ (liturgical gloves) are off, the 10 nuns of the order reporting sales of the pastries and chocolate truffles they produce as their only source of income are down, the faithful of the nearby villages clearing having been told by their priests to buy their sweet treats from non-heretics.  According to Rome, the bolshie Poor Clare nuns of Belorado have committed the crime of schism (Canon 751 of the Code of Canon Law states defines schism as “the refusal of submission to the supreme pontiff or of communion with the members of the Church subject to him”, the penalty for which is excommunication).  Since burnings at the stake and such became unfashionable, excommunication is now the most serious penalty a baptized person can incur; it consists of being placed outside the communion of the faithful of the Catholic Church and denied access to the sacraments but it need not be final, the theological purpose of the act being “to bring the guilty to repentance and conversion” and, in a phrase with internal logic which makes complete sense in the corridors of the Vatican: “With the penalty of excommunication the Church is not trying in some way to restrict the extent of mercy but is simply making evident the seriousness of the crime.”

Of course heretics are flesh and blood and as they have declared themselves no longer members of the Catholic Church, by remaining in the monastery they are occupying property of the Church to which they do not belong and may be found to have no legal right to stay there.  Their archbishop has told them they are now trespassing but seems to be taking a patient approach, saying he hopes they will leave of their own volition, avoid the need to assemble a team of black-clad monsignors forcibly to evict them.  The social media savvy Francis would understand that might be “bad optics”.  Still, the archbishop insists the matter will be pursued and that Spanish civil law recognizes the Church’s Code of Canon Law as governing such things, adding “…they were told that they should not be in the monastery and in a steadfast and contumacious way they persist in being there”, concluding ominously “…so the legal authorities will act against them.”

This is not an isolated case and in the last year there have been a number of excommunications of bishops and archbishops, all of whom have denied the legitimacy of Francis, some actually calling him “a heretic”, something almost unknown for centuries.  With the death of Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), so died too the last restraining influence on Francis’s reformist tendencies and the tensions which have mostly be suppressed since Vatican II are now bubbling over.  As an amusing spectacle for the neutrals, Church politics: (“You’re a heretic!”, “No, you’re a heretic!”) is something like modern Spanish political discourse: (“You’re a fascist!”, “No, you’re a fascist!”) but how this plays out in what may be the last days of this pontificate is likely much to influence the voting in the College of Cardinals when it comes time to choose the next pope.

As the Vatican takes heresy seriously, so the fashionistas guard haute couture.  The reaction to Lindsay Lohan brief fling as fashion designer for Ungaro's showing at Paris Fashion Week (March 2010) collectively recalled the earnestness associated with critiques of film directors, football managers and others dealing with culturally vital matters.

Masticate

Masticate (pronounced mas-ti-keyt)

(1) To chew (usually food).

(2) To reduce materials (such as rubber) to a pulp by crushing or kneading.

1640–1650: From the Late Latin masticātus, past participle of masticāre (to chew), from the past participle stem of the post-Classical Latin masticō (I chew), from the Ancient Greek μαστιχάω (mastikháō) (I gnash the teeth”).  The English masticate was a back-formation of the earlier mastication.  The noun mastic (gum or resin obtained from certain small trees of the Mediterranean region and in various places east of Suez used as a chewing gum) emerged in the late fourteenth century and was from mastic, from the thirteenth century Old French mastic and directly from Late Latin mastichum, from the Classical Latin mastiche, from the Ancient Greek mastikhe, of uncertain origin but probably in some way connected with masasthai (to chew) and thus related to the modern mastication.  The etymologists are divided on whether the Ancient Greek mastikhan (to gnash the teeth) was from the primitive Indo-European mendh- (to chew (and the ultimate source of mandible) or of pre-Greek origin.  Masticate, masticated & masticating are verbs, masticatory, masticator & mastication are nouns and masticable is an adjective; the noun plural is mastications.

All forms tend now to be seen in specialised niches, masticatory almost always in medical or scientific literature and seems to be a favorite in entomology while masticable (capable of being chewed, that may be masticated) appeared first in 1802, quickly adopted by dieticians in hospitals & zoos although it has survived only in the latter.  Other than for technical purposes, masticate’s most obvious niche is in humor, the effect achieved by using the word in a way easily confused with the almost homophonic masturbate, a device used also with the thespian/lesbian homophone.  So usually, unless one is discussing the eating habits of insects or aiming for humorous effect, the monosyllabic “chew” is a better choice.

Thespian Lindsay Lohan with cheeseburger, masticating.

The verb chew (masticate, bite and grind with the teeth) was from the Middle English cheuen, from the Old English ceowan, from the West Germanic keuwwan (source also of the Middle Low German keuwen, the Dutch kauwen, the Old High German kiuwan and the German kauen).  The source may have been from the primitive Indo-European gyeu- (to chew), source of the Old Church Slavonic živo (to chew), the Lithuanian žiaunos (jaws) and the Persian javidan (to chew).  The figurative sense (to to think over (usually as “chew on it”)) dates from the late fourteenth century, the origin said to be “dinner table discussions over pieces of bacon fat”.  For humorous effect, the process is sometimes described as “mental mastication”.  Later variations include “to chew the rag” (discuss some matter), first documented in 1885 as army slang although there are claims it began both in the British Army and the Indian Army under the Raj.  To “chew the fat” meant the same thing and was mid-twentieth century slang.  . To chew (someone) out was first cited in 1948 but was thought to be military slang from World War II (1939-1945), the idea being having been “chewed up and spat out”.  As a packaged product, chewing gum was first sold in the US in 1843, the early formulations being hardened secretions from the spruce tree.

The purported fallacy

The purported fallacy is a rhetorical device intended to confuse or suggest irrelevant considerations into the mind of the listener,  It’s related to but distinct from the “red herring” (in figurative use, a clue, information, argument, etc. that is or is intended to be misleading, diverting attention from the real answer or issue).  A well-known example from the US is often quoted but is unfortunately a myth, fake news in its time but still refusing to die.  In the Florida primary contest for the Democratic nomination in the 1950 Senate campaign, Claude Pepper (1900–1989; Democrat Senator for Florida 1936-1951, Democrat member of House of Representatives (Florida 1963-1989)) lost to George Smathers (1913–2007; Democrat member of House of Representatives (Florida) 1947-1951 and Democrat Senator for Florida 1951-1969).  Smathers had managed Pepper's successful 1938 campaign and the association continued, Pepper pulling strings so Smathers could avoid military service during World War II (1939-1945) and helping him become an assistant attorney-general.

The 1950 Senate election in Florida was noted for flamboyant oratory, ideological ferocity and personal dramas but that was neither novel nor unique to Florida, indeed, by mid twentieth century thing had been toned-down from what had prevailed during much of the 1800s.  Smathers labeled his opponent “Red” Pepper which, if unfair, was funny and, in the early Cold War, a not unusual tactic, Senator Joe McCarthy (1908–1957; senator for Wisconsin (Republican) 1947-1957) that year having delivered his inflammatory Lincoln Day speech in which he claimed to have list of known communists employed by the State Department.  However, what arose during the campaign was the legend that Smathers, assuming low education and high prejudice in the minds of some voters, had made speeches in rural areas accusing his opponent of being “a shameless extrovert”, having “a sister who was once a thespian in wicked New York”, having "practiced celibacy before his marriage" and being someone “who had been seen masticating fish”.

Irresistibly good copy, the words appeared in the 17 April issue of Time magazine and despite cautioning they were “of doubtful authenticity” they’ve for decades been recycled, used for illustrative effect for this and that across the political spectrum; Robert Sherrill (1924-2014) on the left and William F Buckley (1925–2008) on the right, both claiming it happened.  The truth (which Buckley later acknowledged), was the words turned out to be the work of journalists covering the campaign who, over drinks, began inventing double-talk quotations and swapping them.  It became a contest to see who could write the funniest and some of them leaked, published as fact.  After decades of estrangement, a Pepper fund-raising letter ended up in Smathers' office.  Smathers responded with a contribution and Pepper, after joking that the cheque bounced, sent a note of thanks.  Smathers said he would contribute to Pepper as long as he was in the Congress as a champion of the elderly, adding he was now “old enough to where I kind of feel like he may speak for me''.

Satirists work in a similar vein to those tipsy reporters.  In 2006, in a parody of the attack ads the Liberal Party was using against Stephen Harper’s (b 1959; prime minister of Canada 2006-2015) Conservative Party government, National Public Radio (NPR) offered:

Stephen Harper has plans for Canada, scary plans.  Scary, evil plans.  We can't make this up, we're not allowed to. Stephen Harper owns a dragon.  He keeps it in a shed. Seriously.  Stephen Harper drinks his own blood.  We saw him. We're not allowed to make this up.  The Liberal Party, let's see how badly we can lose this thing.

Quale

Quale (pronounced kwah-lee, kwah-ley, kwey-lee or kwey-ley)

(1) In philosophy, a property of something considered separately from the thing having that property; an instance of subjective, conscious experience.

(2) A sense-datum or feeling having a distinctive quality.

(3) Death; a plague; a murrain (obsolete).

1665–1675: From the Latin quāle, neuter singular of quālis (of what sort; of what kind) and cognate with the Old English cwalu and the Old Norse kval (torment, torture), both variants from the root of quell.  The later was from quala, from the French quel, the Italian quale and the Spanish cual, ultimately from the Latin quālis, from the primitive Indo-European kwis & kwo (interrogative, relative stem) and (speculatively) hzel (to grow); it was cognate with the Ancient Greek πηλίκος (pēlíkos).  Quale is a noun; the noun plural is qualia (quals is the plural of qual (a clipping of “qualifying exam”).

Qualia are the subjective or qualitative properties of experiences: Some find the experience of seeing a white Ferrari as different from viewing one in white as another might find when comparing an orchid to hemlock.  Although it had appeared before (adding to an already long list of technical terms in the discipline), in philosophy, qualia was first used in its current sense in a paper published in 1929 by US scholar Clarence Irving ("C.I.") Lewis (1883–1964).  Lewis was discussing sense-data theory and explained that he used the word, qualia were properties of sense-data themselves.  Emerging from what was at the time a rather dusty corner of academic philosophy, quale came to be more widely used (especially with the rapid growth of universities in the post-war period) and the sense expanded to refer more generally to properties of experience. While there are experiences which truly are universal with no differentiation in qualia among people, other perceptual experiences (which can be of the mind such as hallucinations, or of the body such a headache, or wholly emotional such as anger or anxiety) intrinsically have a qualitative quality: their quale.

Different qualia likely: 1967 Ferrari 275 GTB/4.  The term “resale red” (the idea re-painting a sports car red increases its resale value) may not have been coined to describe the Ferrari after-market but such is the association of red (particularly the classic Rosso Corsa) with the marque that some find other shades a disappointment.  However, the right Ferrari in one of the Biancos (variants of white) displays the purity of line as no other color can.

The old, and long obsolete, use of quale to mean “death” seems no longer makes sense given the way the meaning of the word has shifted.  However, although for the deceased, once dead, the experience is the same whether one was struck by a meteorite, drank one’s self to death or was murdered by the Freemasons, the manner of death might mean a different quale for the departed’s grieving loved ones.  That quirk aside, although the existence of qualia seem obvious, in philosophy, there have been decades of disputes, may focused on whether qualia can be identified with or reduced to anything physical, the suggesting being any attempted explanation of the world in solely physicalist terms would leave qualia out.  In the way of squabbles about things which can be neither be proved nor disproved, a century from now lecturers and professors are likely still to be exchanging views.

Qualia are the subjective (individually and differentially qualitative) properties of experiences and the differences between individuals are sometimes significant.  Two people drinking from the same bottle of wine may have two different experiences: one finding pleasure, one distaste; two diametrically opposed qualia.  Why this happens was explained in Why You Like The Wines You Like (2013) by Tim Hanni (b 1952), a certified Master of Wine (MW).  The certification process is administered by the Court of Master Sommeliers, established in 1977, formalizing the layers of qualification that began in 1969 in London with the first Master Sommelier examination.  It’s now conducted by the various chapters of the court and globally, they’re a rare few.  While over 600 people have been to space and there are rumored to be some 4000 members of the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d'Or, there are currently only 262 Master Sommeliers in the world; they describe themselves as “cork dorks”.

Lindsay Lohan explaining her quale upon tasting wine in The Parent Trap (1998).  IRL, she decided to focus on acting, pursuing wine-tasting only as a hobby. 

What Hanni’s book explored were the physiological and psychological reasons peoples’ experience of the taste of wine are so divergent; some factors obvious, some more subtle.  In partnership with US psychologist Dr Linda Bartoshuk (b 1938), he developed what was dubbed the “vinotype” assessment, used to explore individual preferences for, and tolerance of, various external stimuli and how those generalized preferences (or “tolerances”) affect the appreciation of wine.  Essentially, there are those who are “hypersensitive” to tastes and those who are less perceptive (ie “less sensitive”) and thus categorized as “more tolerant”.  That sounds banally predictable but there are social and economic implications because it’s clear an individual’s personal preference is determined by personal physiology and social context as well as the way the taste receptors in the mouth work.  There is still the cultural perception that those who prefer sweet wines to dry are those with a less trained or discerning palate but the difference really depends more than anything on whether or not one is one of the “hypersensitive”.  Despite that, there are social pressures (real or perceived) and some feel compelled, at least in public, to avoid sweet wines, lest they be thought unsophisticated.

Interregnum

Interregnum (pronounced inn-ter-reg-numb)

(1) (a) An interval of time between the close of a sovereign's reign and the accession of his or her normal or legitimate successor.  (b) A period when normal government is suspended, especially between successive reigns or regimes.  (c)  Any period during which a state has no ruler or only a temporary executive

(2) The period in English history from the execution of Charles I in 1649 to the Restoration of Charles II in 1660.

(3) An interval in the Church of England dioceses between the periods of office of two bishops.

(4) In casual use, any pause or interruption in continuity.

1570-1580: From the Latin interregnum (an interval between two reigns (literally "between-reign), the construct being inter (between; amid) + rēgnum (kingship, dominion, reign, rule, realm (and related to regere (to rule, to direct, keep straight, guide), from the primitive Indo-European root reg- (move in a straight line), with derivatives meaning "to direct in a straight line", thus "to lead, rule"). To illustrate that linguistic pragmatism is nothing new, in the Roman republic, the word was preserved to refer to a vacancy in the consulate.  The word is now generally applied to just about any situation where an organization is between leaders and this seems an accepted modern use. The earlier English noun was interreign (1530s), from French interrègne (14c.).  Interregnum & interregent are nouns and interregnal is an adjective; the noun plural is interregnums or interregna.

The classic interregnum.  One existed between 1204 and 1261 in the Byzantine Empire.  Following the Sack of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade, the Byzantine Empire was dissolved, to be replaced by several Crusader states and several Byzantine states.  It was re-established by Nicean general Alexios Strategopoulos who placed Michael VIII Palaiologos back on the throne of a united Byzantine Empire.

The retrospective interregnum.  The Interregnum of (1649–1660) was a republican period in the three kingdoms of England, Ireland and Scotland.  Government was carried out by the Commonwealth and the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell after the execution of Charles I and before the restoration of Charles II; it became an interregnum only because of the restoration.  Were, for example, a Romanov again to be crowned as Tsar, the period between 1917 and the restoration would become the second Russian interregnum, the first being the brief but messy business of 1825, induced by a disputed succession following the death of the Emperor Alexander I on 1 December.  The squabble lasted less than a month but in those few weeks was conducted the bloody Decembrist revolt which ended when Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich renounced his claim to throne and Nicholas I declared himself Tsar.

The constitutional interregnum.  In the UK, under normal conditions, there is no interregnum; upon the death of one sovereign, the crown is automatically assumed by the next in the line of succession: the King is dead, long live the King.  The famous phrase signifies the continuity of sovereignty, attached to a personal form of power named auctoritas.  Auctoritas is from the Old French autorité & auctorité (authority, prestige, right, permission, dignity, gravity; the Scriptures) from the Latin auctoritatem (nominative auctoritas) (invention, advice, opinion, influence, command) from auctor (master, leader, author).  From the fourteenth century, it conveyed the sense of "legal validity" or “authoritative doctrine", as opposed to opposed to reason or experience and conferred a “right to rule or command, power to enforce obedience, power or right to command or act".  It’s a thing which underpins the legal theory of the mechanics of the seamless transition in the UK of one the sovereign to the next, coronations merely ceremonial and proclamations procedural.  Other countries are different.  When a King of Thailand dies, there isn’t a successor monarch until one is proclaimed, a regent being appointed to carry out the necessary constitutional (though not ceremonial) duties.  A number of monarchies adopt this approach including Belgium and the Holy See.  The papal interregnum is known technically as sede vacante (literally "when the seat is vacant") and ends upon the election of new pope by the College of Cardinals.

The interregnum by analogy.  The term has been applied to the period of time between the election of a new President of the United States and his (or her!) inauguration, during which the outgoing president remains in power, but as a lame duck in the sense that, except in extraordinary circumstances, there is attention only to procedural and ceremonial matters.  So, while the US can sometimes appear to be in a state with some similarities to an interregnum between the election in November and the inauguration in January, it’s  merely a casual term without a literal meaning.  The addition in 1967 of the twenty-fifth amendment (A25) to the US Constitution which dealt with the mechanics of the line of succession in the event of a presidential vacancy, disability or inability to fulfil the duties of the office, removed any doubt and established there is never a point at which the country is without someone functioning as head of state & commander-in-chief.

Many turned, probably for the first time, to A25 after watching 2024’s first presidential debate between sleazy old Donald and senile old Joe.  Among historians, comparisons were made between some revealing clips of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) late in his second term and reports of the appearance and evident mental state of Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945) during the Yalta conference (February 1945).  In 1994, Reagan’s diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease was revealed and within two months of Yalta, FDR would be dead.  Regarding the matter of presidential incapacity or inability, the relevant sections of A25 are:

Section 3: Presidential Declaration of Inability: If the President submits a written declaration to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives that he is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, the Vice President becomes Acting President until the President submits another declaration stating that he is able to resume his duties.

Section 4: Vice Presidential and Cabinet Declaration of Presidential Inability: If the Vice President and a majority of the principal officers of the executive departments (or another body as Congress may by law provide) submit a written declaration to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, the Vice President immediately assumes the powers and duties of the office as Acting President.

If the President then submits a declaration that no inability exists, he resumes the powers and duties of his office unless the Vice President and a majority of the principal officers (or another body as Congress may by law provide) submit a second declaration within four days that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office. In this case, Congress must decide the issue, convening within 48 hours if not in session. If two-thirds of both Houses vote that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, the Vice President continues as Acting President; otherwise, the President resumes his powers and duties.

Quite what the mechanism would be for a vice president and the requisite number of the cabinet to issue such a certificate is not codified.  Every president in the last century-odd has been attended by a doctor with the title “Physician to the President” (both John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) and Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001), uniquely, appointed women) and presumably they would be asked for an opinion although, even though FDR’s decline was apparent to all, nobody seems to have suggested Vice Admiral Ross McIntire (1889–1959) would have been likely to find the threshold incapacity in a president he’d known since 1917 as served as physician since 1933.  Vice presidents and troubled cabinet members may need to seek a second opinion.

Fashions change: The dour Charles I (left), the puritanical Oliver Cromwell (centre) and the merry Charles II (right).

The famous interregnum in England, Scotland, and Ireland began with the execution of Charles I (1600-1649) and ended with the restoration to the thrones of the three realms of his son Charles II (1630-1685) in 1660.  Immediately after the execution, a body known as the English Council of State (later re-named the Protector's Privy Council) was created by the Rump Parliament.  Because of the implication of auctoritas, the king's beheading was delayed half a day so the members of parliament could pass legislation declaring themselves the sole representatives of the people and the House of Commons the repository of all power.  Making it a capital offence to proclaim a new king, the laws abolished both the monarchy and the House of Lords.  For most of the interregnum, the British Isles were ruled by Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658) an English general and statesman who combined the roles of head of state and head of government of the republican commonwealth.

When Queen Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of England and other places variously 1952-2022) took her last breath, Charles (b 1948) in that moment became King Charles III; the unbroken line summed up in the phrase "The King is dead.  Long Live the King".  In the British constitution there is no interregnum and a coronation (which may happen weeks, months or even years after the succession) is, in secular legal terms, purely ceremonial although there have been those who argued it remains substantive in relation to the monarch's role as supreme governor of the established Church of England, a view now regarded by most with some scepticism.  As a spectacle however it's of some interest (as the worldwide television ratings confirmed) and given the history, there was this time some interest in the wording used in reference to the queen consort.  However, constitutional confirmed that had any legal loose ends been detected or created at or after the moment of the succession they would have been "tidied up" at a meeting of the Accession Council, comprised of a number of worthies who assemble upon the death of a monarch and issue a formal proclamation of accession, usually in the presence of the successor who swears oaths relating to both church (England & Scotland) and state.  What receives the seal of the council is the ultimate repository of monarchical authority (on which the laws and mechanisms of the state ultimately depend) and dynastic legitimacy, rather than the coronation ceremony.

Some fashions did survive the interregnum: Charles II in his coronation regalia (left) and Lindsay Lohan (right) demonstrate why tights will never go out of style.

Installation

Installation (pronounced in-stuh-ley-shuhn)

(1) Something installed (which can be physical, as in plant or equipment or weightless, as in software).

(2) The act of installing (to install) or the state of being installed.

(3) In military use, any permanent or semi-permanent post, camp, station, base etc, maintained to support operations.

(4) In art, an exhibit (widely defined) where the relation of the parts to the whole and the context of the space where exhibited are sometimes claimed to important to the interpretation of the piece.

(5) A formal ceremony in which an honor is conferred or an appointment made to an office (the state of being so honored or appointed being to be “installed”).

1600–1610: From the Middle French installation, from the Medieval Latin installātiō.  The construct was install + -ation.  The verb install (which was used also as instal and before that enstall) was an early fifteenth century form used to mean “place in ecclesiastical office by seating in an official stall”.  It was from the Middle English installen, from the fourteenth century Old French installer, from the Medieval Latin īnstallō (to install, put in place, establish), the construct being in- (in)- + stallum (stall), from the Frankish stall (stall, position, place), from the Proto-Germanic stallaz (place, position), from the primitive Indo-European stel-, stAlǝn- & stAlǝm- (stem, trunk).  It was cognate with the Old High German stal (location, stall), the Old English steall (position, stall), the Old English onstellan (to institute, create, originate, establish, give the example of), the Middle High German anstalt (institute), the German anstellen (to conduct, employ), the German einstellen (to set, adjust, position), Dutch aanstellen (to appoint, commission, institute) and the Dutch instellen (to set up, establish).  The suffix -ation was from the Middle English -acioun & -acion, from the Old French acion & -ation, from the Latin -ātiō, an alternative form of -tiō (thus the eventual English form -tion).  It was appended to words to indicate (1) an action or process, (2) the result of an action or process or (3) a state or quality.

The mid fifteenth century noun installation (action of installing) was a reference to the processes (both administrative & ceremonial) of appointment to church offices or other positions, and in that sense was from the Medieval Latin installationem (nominative installātiō), the noun of action from past participle stem of installare.  Of machinery (in the sense of plant & equipment), the first known use in print, describing the “act of setting up a machine; placing it in position for use” dates from 1882 but it may by then have for some time been in oral use.  Installation & installationer are nouns and installational & installationlike are adjectives; the noun plural is installations.  Installationism & installationist are non-standard forms used in art criticism.

In computing, an “installation” can be of hardware or software.  With hardware, the point of distinction is an installation is something which is permanent (or, even if temporary, installed in a manner of something permanent), as opposed to a mere connection (such as plugging to a USB cable).  In software, the idea to is transfer from an external source (the internet, a place on a network or transportable media (diskettes, optical discs etc)) onto a device's permanent storage, the installation process usually taken to include putting things into the state where functional use is possible.  Installations can be as simple as copying a single file to a drive to long, interactive processes involving multiple external media and on-line registration or validation procedures.  Some installations are effortless while some are worse than others, as those who have enjoyed the experience of installing the earlier versions of Nvidia’s video drivers for some flavors of Unix can attest.  Especially in software, the terms “pre-installation” and “re-reinstallation” are common although “un-install” is more common than “un-installation” (the terms “failed installation” and “corrupted installation” are also not unknown although in most use, IT nerds usually clip “installation” to “install”).

Installations and Performance Art

It’s now unfashionable, and probably thought reactionary, to attempt to impose definitions on the various expressions of Western art.  There was a time, in living memory, when such distinctions were taken seriously, one squabble about whether an entrant in an Australian portraiture competition could be considered “a portrait” (and by implication the work of “an artist”) or “a mere caricature” (and the thus the scribblings of “a cartoonist”) ending up in the Supreme Court of New South Wales (Attorney-General v Trustees of National Art Gallery of NSW & Another (1945) 62 WN (NSW) 212.).

Portrait or caricature?  Mr Joshua Smith (1943, left), oil on canvas by Sir William Dobell (1899–1970) and Joshua Smith (1905-1995, right).

Wisely, Mr Justice Roper (1901–1958) decided the bench was not a place for amateur art criticism and agreed the work was indeed “a portrait”, holding, inter alia, that “portrait” “…means a pictorial representation of a person, painted by an artist. This definition denotes some degree of likeness is essential and for the purpose of achieving it the inclusion of the face of the subject is desirable and perhaps also essential.”  Of the work in question, he observed it was “…characterised by some startling exaggeration and distortion which was clearly intended by the artist, his technique being too brilliant to admit of any other conclusion.  It bears, nevertheless, a strong degree of likeness to the subject and is think, undoubtedly, a pictorial representation of him.  I find as a fact that it is a portrait…”  Given that, the judge found it unnecessary to consider whether the painting was a “caricature” or a “fantasy” which was a shame, even if it wouldn’t have been something on which the verdict hung.

Year later, in an essay he titled The White Bird (1987), the English painter & art critic John Berger (1926–2017) would discuss the relationship between artist, artwork & viewer and the tension between accurate depiction (“imitation” as he sometimes called it, a growing trend in modern portraiture) and creative expression: “The notion that art is the mirror of nature is one that only appeals in periods of scepticism.  Art does not imitate nature; it imitates a creation, sometimes to propose an alternative world, sometimes simply to amplify, to confirm, to make social the brief hope offered by nature.  Art is an organised response to what nature allows us to glimpse occasionally. Art sets out to transform the potential recognition into an unceasing one.”  With that, one suspects Mr Justice Roper would have concurred.

Finding legal proceedings tiresome, the art industry solved the problem of what does and does not belong in galleries by embracing “installations” and “performance art”, two categories without definitional boundaries and thus able to accommodate anything which can’t be squeezed into one of the traditional slots.  In retrospect, it is course easy to identify stuff stretching back many centuries which could be classified as either but in the modern age, there’s certainly a perception curators are now artistically more promiscuous.  It thus both impossible and pointless to try to define “installation” and “performance art” but some characteristics certainly are identifiable.

Installation art tends to be three-dimensional, is often site-specific and designed to transform the perception of a space in which it exists and the range of materials used is unlimited, the genre notable especially for the use of everyday objects, video & audio content and often, interactive components.  Installation art has encompassed unmade beds so there’s some scope.  Just as there’s no one type of installation, nor are there defined parameters for the mode of display: installations have been hung from ceilings, wrapped around buildings and sat on the seabed.  In gallery spaces however, the most frequently seen installations are those on the floor with sufficient room surrounding them for the viewer to walk around, experiencing the work from multiple angles and perspectives.  Installations can be temporary or permanent or even in some way vanish, decay or be destroyed during the exhibition and in more than one case, the “installation” didn’t actually exist.

The context of location can also dictate the definition.  Wax figures of Lindsay Lohan & Paris Hilton might be all or part of an installation if exhibited in a gallery but when on display at Madame Tussauds in New York City (left), they are a tourist attraction.  More typically, installations combine artistic technique with social or political comment: Gabriel Dawe's (b 1973) Plexus series (centre) was made with a reputed 60 miles (97 km) of embroidery thread hooked from floor to ceiling in a repeating overlay while Judy Chicago’s (b 1939) The Dinner Party, 1974-79 (right) was a feminist piece but one which later attracted criticism because some degree of “ethnic exclusionism” was detected.

Performance art, as the term implies, is a form of “live art” where “something happens”, the actions of the artist or performers components of the work.  Perhaps best thought of as a form of encapsulated theatre, performance art would seem to depend on movement, sound, color and sometimes text although, being art, some performance art has been wholly static.  For that reason, Empire (1965), Andy Warhol’s (1928–1987) eight-hour, slow-motion film of an unchanging view of the Empire State Building must be considered performance art although, given the nature of the experience, it really must be the viewer who is thought the subject.  Performance art is of course intrinsically ephemeral and Empire played with that idea, each moment of the production seemingly the same yet in tiny ways different, rather like the exercise in textual definitional philosophy lecturers like to give students to ponder: “Is the river the ‘same’ river from one day to the next when almost all the molecules of water are different?”

The muse as performing installation: US rapper, singer, songwriter, record producer, hip hop identity & fashion designer Ye (formerly the artist known as Kanye West (b 1977)) and Australian architect & model Bianca Censori (b 1995), annual Grammy Awards, Los Angeles, 2 February 2025.

The recent, much publicized appearances by Mr Ye and Ms Censori attracted all sorts of comments and the consensus was the project (one presumably restricted to the warmer months) was a promotional device for him and to some extent that seems to have worked, despite Mr Ye being mostly unnoticed while in the presence of his photogenic muse.  Although there are references to the pair being “married”, it’s not clear if that is their legal status and in artistic terms that may be significant.  What is of interest is whether in these appearances Ms Censori should be thought a “performance artist” or Mr Ye’s “installation”; both have been suggested and there’s no reason why the two states can’t be simultaneous.  Most intriguing has been the suggestion Ms Cansori is being paid by Mr Ye on a "per outfit" basis and is thus a kind of "walking installation".  That would make it a very "modern" marriage and one of which not all would approve but there have been relationships (artistic and otherwise) based on more dubious arrangements.   

Mr Ye & Ms Cansori at Paris Fashion Week, June 2024, the latter in character as an installation.

In the decadent West, when considering the sometimes dubious artistic merit of installations, professional and amateurs critics alike both usually focus on the work but ever since 1917 when a porcelain urinal appeared in an art gallery, the matter of location has had to be considered: "If something (including a porcelain urinal) is exhibited in an art gallery, is it thus a 'work of art'?"  The question was by most treated as an absurdity but it troubled some critics and went on to sustain the pop-art movement. remaining a staple for post-modernists (they still exist), "cultural commentators" and such.  For decades, the manifests of art galleries have included many items few prior to the modern era would have been prepared to call "art".  

Kim Jong-un (right) looking at Jang Song-thaek (left).

For some, professional careers have been built exploring the implication of the question while for most, it's all been variously annoying or amusing but there are places in which where an object sits can be critical and choosing a "shady" rather than "sunny" spot can be a capital offence.  In the DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)), Jang Song-thaek (1946-2013) was married to Kim Kyong-hui (b 1946; believed still alive), only daughter Kim Il-sung (1912-1994; Great Leader of DPRK 1949-1994) and only sister of (1941-2011; Dear Leader of DPRK; 1994-2011). He was thus the uncle (by marriage) of Kim Jong-un (b circa 1983; Supreme Leader of DPRK since 2011).  Within the party, he had a mixed career but ups and downs within the structure were not unusual and later in the reign of the Dear Leader, he emerged as a important figure in both the political and military machines around which things in the DPRK revolve.  His position appeared to be strengthened when the Supreme Leader assumed power but in 2013 he was accused of being a counter-revolutionary, was expelled from the party, dismissed from his many posts and was un-personed by having his photograph and mention of his name digitally erased from all official records.  In December that year, the KCNA (Korean Central News Agency, the regime's energetic and highly productive state media organization) announced his execution.

Obviously guilty as sin: Jang Song-thaek (left) being brought before the court (right).

On the basis of the official statement issued by the KCNA, he must have been guilty, highlights of the press release including confirmation he was “an anti-party, counter-revolutionary factional element and despicable political careerist and trickster…, a traitor to the nation for all ages who perpetrated anti-party, counter-revolutionary factional acts in a bid to overthrow the leadership of our party and state and the socialist system”.  It noted that despite receiving much trust and benevolence by the “peerlessly great men … The Great Leader, The Dear Leader and The Supreme Leader”, he behaved “worse than a dog, perpetrated thrice-cursed acts of treachery in betrayal of such profound trust and warmest paternal love”.  Of note was his subversion of interior decorating, preventing “the Taedonggang Tile Factory from erecting a mosaic…” as a monument to the Great Leader, not in its deserved place in the sun but “…in a shaded corner”.  Perhaps worse of all, he “let the decadent capitalist lifestyle find its way to our society by distributing all sorts of pornographic pictures among his confidants since 2009. He led a dissolute, depraved life, squandering money wherever he went.”  In summary, the release added Jang was a “thrice-cursed traitor without an equal in the world” and that “history will eternally record and never forget the shuddering crimes committed by Jang Song Thaek, the enemy of the party, revolution and people and heinous traitor to the nation”.

Details of such matters are hard to confirm so it’s not known if the rumors of him being executed by anti-aircraft gun fire or a flame-thrower are true.  Nor is it known if whatever remained of the corpse was thrown to a pack of wild dogs but the KCNA's press release did add: “…the revolutionary army will never pardon all those who disobey the order of the Supreme Commander and there will be no place for them to be buried even after their death” so the dog-food theory was at least plausible.

KCNA’s official photograph, commemorating the Supreme Leader’s tour of “inspection and field guidance” of the Taedonggang Tile Factory, September 2012.  Included in the Supreme Leader’s entourage was Jang Song-thaek (in army uniform on top platform).

The Supreme Leader learned in detail about factory operations including the processes used in the microlite shop and artificial marble tile shop, the latter able to produce tiles in the same colors and patterns as those of natural marble.  Addressing the workers, the Supreme Leader underlined the need to continue directing big efforts to improving the quality of products, noting that the quality of tiles depends on plane and right angle tolerable numerical value, contraction rate, intensity and resistance to cold.  When seeing tiles of diverse colors and sizes, he expressed great satisfaction that, figuratively speaking, “all clothes and underwear are locally made”, a thoughtful observation which attracted much applause.  It was on this visit the Supreme Leader became aware of the subversive and treasonous order from Jang Song-thaek that the mosaic erected as a monument to the Great Leader must be installed not in its deserved place in the sun but in a shaded corner.