Monday, April 11, 2011

Deceased--Sidney Lumet

Sidney Lumet
June 25th, 1924 to April 9th, 2011

"Sidney Lumet dies at 86; prolific 'actor's director' steered clear of Hollywood"

Sidney Lumet, a four-time Oscar nominee, was known for guiding strong performances in films such as '12 Angry Men,' 'Network' and 'Dog Day Afternoon.' He directed more than 40 films in his long career, many of them in his hometown of New York.

by

Dennis McLellan

April 10th, 2011

Los Angeles Times

Sidney Lumet, the prolific four-time Oscar-nominated director known for guiding strong performances in classic films such as "12 Angry Men," "Dog Day Afternoon" and "Network," died Saturday. He was 86.

Lumet, whose film career spanned more than 50 years, died of lymphoma at his home in New York, his family said.

Once described in Variety as "the quintessential New York filmmaker," Lumet shot a large number of his films in his hometown, including "The Pawnbroker," "Serpico" and many others.

As former Los Angeles Times film critic Charles Champlin once wrote, Lumet avoided Hollywood "with a fervor that would do credit to Woody Allen."

"Hollywood is a company town," Lumet told The Times in 1968. "There is no real world there outside of filming. I don't feel organic life there, and I need that around me when I work."

A onetime child actor on Broadway and radio in the 1930s, Lumet was a director for CBS in New York during the golden age of live television dramas in the '50s when he made his auspicious feature-film directorial debut with "12 Angry Men."

The Reginald Rose-scripted 1957 legal drama set in a Manhattan jury room with Henry Fonda leading an ensemble cast received three Academy Award nominations, including best picture and director.

Lumet went on to garner three other Oscar nominations for directing: for the 1975 Brooklyn bank-heist film "Dog Day Afternoon," the 1976 Paddy Chayefsky-written television satire "Network" and the 1982 legal drama "The Verdict."

He also received an Oscar nomination for his and Jay Presson Allen's adapted screenplay for "Prince of the City," a 1981 police corruption drama directed by Lumet.

Known as an actor's director, Lumet guided numerous Academy Award-nominated performances, including those of Oscar winners Ingrid Bergman (for "Murder on the Orient Express") and Peter Finch, Faye Dunaway and Beatrice Straight (all for "Network").

When Lumet received an honorary Oscar in 2005, presenter Al Pacino, who had received best actor Academy Award nominations for his work in "Serpico" and "Dog Day Afternoon," said the director was not being honored for his longevity but for the quality of his work.

"A Sidney Lumet movie," Pacino said, "has a signature, a stamp of individuality, a point of view, a feeling.… It's real, kinetic energy. You were there as the story was being told.... I'm forever grateful, along with all the other actors and writers who have benefited from Sidney's genius."

During his long movie career, Lumet directed more than 40 films, including "The Fugitive Kind," "A View From the Bridge," "Long Day's Journey Into Night," "Fail-Safe," "The Hill," "The Group," "The Anderson Tapes," "Murder on the Orient Express" and "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead."

He had his share of flops, including "The Wiz," his 1978 adaptation of the hit Broadway musical.

"His career is a little bit inconsistent, but that's because he's been at it for so long, and when you're a working director like Sidney Lumet, you're going to have your outstanding successes and you're going to have films that are not so hot," Rick Jewell, a professor of film history at USC, told The Times in 2008.

"He was not like a Stanley Kubrick, who, once established, would do a film every five or seven years," said Jewell. "Lumet has been turning them out one after another since the '50s. To me, he's kind of a throwback to the old days when some directors were making two or three films a year. He hasn't had that kind of productivity, but still his output is extraordinary."

As a director, Lumet was drawn to intense, dramatic kinds of narratives.

Calling Lumet "one of the last of the great movie moralists," New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis wrote in 2005 that he was a "leading purveyor of the social-issue movie (police corruption, the injustice of the justice system)." He was, she wrote, a filmmaker whose defining screen image "is that of a man — and, almost inevitably, it is a man — struggling with his conscience and against the world."

"He just had an incredible eye for the truth," Paul Newman, who received a best actor Oscar nomination for his role as an alcoholic lawyer who finds redemption in "The Verdict," once said.

Lumet also had a reputation for being a quick and efficient filmmaker, one who brought his movies in ahead of schedule and under budget.

With his background in theater and live television, he rehearsed his actors for two or three weeks before he began filming. He then typically shot only a few takes and "cut in the camera": He knew how each scene would be edited beforehand and shot only what needed to be shot.

As a filmmaker, Lumet believed that the best technique does not call attention to itself.

"I hate any style if you can spot it," he told the New York Times in 2007, noting that in most of his movies, "I don't think there's a visual style, because I try very hard to find the visual style that [particular] story needs."

Because of his own acting background, Lumet said in his 2007 interview with the New York Times, most of the actors he had worked with felt like they were "in sympathetic hands but without being indulged."

Elaborating in a 1997 interview with the London Guardian, he said: "I was an actor, therefore I know where it hurts. I know when it's painful for them, when they have to go digging. All good work is self-revelation — they know that; I know that."

Those who worked with Lumet have praised his affinity with actors.

"The magic of the man is that he sculpts very carefully what he wants, and he conspires with you to help him with whatever he has in mind," Ossie Davis, who appeared in Lumet's 1965 World War II military prison drama "The Hill," said in an interview for a 1997 edition of the documentary series "The Directors."

In the same documentary, Rod Steiger, the Oscar-nominated star of "The Pawnbroker," Lumet's drama about a memory-haunted Holocaust survivor that was released in the U.S. in 1965, observed that the "important thing as far as Sidney is concerned is his compassion for creative people and understanding because he himself is so creative."

The Directors Guild of America, which recognized Lumet's creativity behind the camera with seven nominations for directing, gave him the D.W. Griffith Award, its top honor for lifetime contribution to film, in 1993.

And in 2005, the Board of Governors of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences presented Lumet with the honorary Oscar in recognition of his "brilliant services to screenwriters, performers and the art of the motion picture."

At 80, however, Lumet had no intention of retiring. In an industry that places a premium on youth, he defied convention.

"For whatever reason, I have just kept working and working, and things turn up that I want to do," he told the Los Angeles Times in 2005. "I don't know if I have a compulsion. It's certainly a lovely way of life.

"If you're in movies, there is no job better than mine. So why stop until nature makes you or the studios make you?"

The son of Yiddish theater actor Baruch Lumet and dancer Eugenia Wermus, Lumet was born June 25, 1924, in Philadelphia but moved to New York City when he was 4.

Following in his father's footsteps, Lumet became an actor in the Yiddish theater as a child and made his Broadway debut in a small role in Sidney Kingsley's drama "Dead End" when he was 11.

Lumet, who attended the Professional Children's School, appeared in many other Broadway plays as a child, as well as acting on various radio series. He also had a role in the 1939 movie drama "One Third of a Nation," starring Sylvia Sidney.

After serving in the Army Signal Corps as a radar repairman in Burma and India during World War II, Lumet studied acting with Sanford Meisner and formed an off-Broadway theater group.

His move into television in 1950, he later said, was a matter of luck.

He was earning a good living as an actor and teacher — he also had set up the drama course at the High School for the Performing Arts — when an actor friend, Yul Brynner, who had been working as a staff director for CBS-TV, invited him to become his assistant director.

When Brynner left CBS to appear in "The King and I" on Broadway, Lumet took over the project Brynner had been directing: the dramatic anthology series "Danger."

Lumet went on to direct the "You Are There" historical reenactment series anchored by Walter Cronkite and other dramatic anthology series such as "The Best of Broadway," "The Goodyear Playhouse" and "Studio One in Hollywood."

Even after launching his film career in 1957, he continued to direct dramas for television, including "The Sacco-Vanzetti Story" on "Sunday Showcase" and "The Iceman Cometh" on "Play of the Week."

In 2001, he returned to television as the creator, executive producer and principal director of the short-lived Manhattan-set legal drama "100 Centre Street" on the A&E Network.

Lumet's 1995 book, "Making Movies," a professional memoir and guide to filmmaking, has been called essential reading for would-be filmmakers.

Lumet was married four times: to actress Rita Gam, heiress Gloria Vanderbilt, journalist and author Gail Jones (the daughter of singer Lena Horne and with whom he had two daughters, Amy and Jenny), and Mary Gimbel.

In addition to his wife and daughters, Lumet is survived by stepdaughter Leslie Gimbel; stepson Bailey Gimbel; nine grandchildren; and a great-grandchild.

"Sidney Lumet, Director of American Film Classics, Dies at 86"

by

Robert Berkvist

April 9th, 2011

The New York Times

Sidney Lumet, a director who preferred the streets of New York to the back lots of Hollywood and whose stories of conscience — “12 Angry Men,” “Serpico,” “Dog Day Afternoon,” “The Verdict,” “Network” — became modern American film classics, died Saturday morning at his home in Manhattan. He was 86.

His stepdaughter, Leslie Gimbel, said the cause was lymphoma.

“While the goal of all movies is to entertain,” Mr. Lumet once wrote, “the kind of film in which I believe goes one step further. It compels the spectator to examine one facet or another of his own conscience. It stimulates thought and sets the mental juices flowing.”

Social issues set his own mental juices flowing, and his best films not only probed the consequences of prejudice, corruption and betrayal but also celebrated individual acts of courage.

In his first film, “12 Angry Men” (1957), he took his cameras into a jury room where the pressure mounted as one tenacious and courageous juror, played by Henry Fonda, slowly convinced the others that the defendant on trial for murder was in fact innocent. (Justice Sonia M. Sotomayor of the United States Supreme Court said the film had an important influence on her law career.)

Almost two decades later, Mr. Lumet’s moral sense remained acute when he ventured into satire with “Network” (1976), perhaps his most acclaimed film. Based on Paddy Chayefsky’s biting script, the film portrays a television anchorman who briefly resuscitates his fading career by launching on-air tirades against what he perceives as the hypocrisies of American society.

The film starred William Holden, Faye Dunaway and Peter Finch as the commentator-turned-attack-dog whose proclamation to the world at large — “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!” — became part of the American vernacular.

“Network” was nominated for 10 Academy Awards, including best film and best director, and won four, including best actor (Mr. Finch), best actress (Ms. Dunaway), best original screenplay (Mr. Chayefsky) and best supporting actress (Beatrice Straight.)

Honorary Oscar

Yet for all the critical success of his films and despite the more than 40 Academy Award nominations they drew, Mr. Lumet himself never won an Oscar, though he was nominated four times as best director. (The other nominations were for “12 Angry Men,” “Dog Day Afternoon” and “The Verdict.”)

Only in 2005 did the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences present him with an honorary Academy Award. Manohla Dargis, writing in The New York Times, called it a “consolation prize for a lifetime of neglect.”

In 2007, in an interview that was videotaped to accompany this obituary online, Mr. Lumet was asked how it felt to win an Academy Award at long last. He replied, “I wanted one, damn it, and I felt I deserved one.”

That he was more a creature of New York than of Hollywood may have had something to do with his Oscar night disappointments. For Mr. Lumet, location mattered deeply, and New York mattered most of all. He was the quintessential New York director.

“Locations are characters in my movies,” he wrote. “The city is capable of portraying the mood a scene requires.”

He explored New York early on in “The Pawnbroker” (1964), the story of a Holocaust survivor, played by Rod Steiger, numbed and hardened against humanity by the horrors he has endured, who deals with racketeers in his Harlem pawnshop until his conscience is reawakened by a vicious crime on his doorstep.

‘Serpico’

The city loomed large in Mr. Lumet’s several examinations of the criminal justice system. Police corruption particularly fascinated him, beginning with “Serpico” (1973). The film, based on a book by Peter Maas, was drawn from a real-life drama involving two New York City police officers, David Durk and Frank Serpico, who told David Burnham, a reporter for The New York Times, that they had ample evidence of police graft and corruption.

Publication of their story led to the mayoral appointment of a commission to investigate the charges and ultimately to major reforms. Both the book and the film concentrated on Detective Serpico, played by Al Pacino, and his efforts to change the system. Mr. Pacino’s performance brought him an Oscar nomination.

Mr. Lumet returned to the theme in 1981 with “Prince of the City,” for which he shared screenwriting credit with Jay Presson Allen. Based on the book by Robert Daley, the film dealt with an ambitious detective (Treat Williams) who goes undercover to gather evidence for an investigative commission and who winds up alienated and alone after being manipulated into destroying the lives and careers of many of those around him.

Mr. Lumet focused on criminals, rather than the police, in “Dog Day Afternoon” (1975), telling the story (again, based on fact) of a botched attempt to rob a Brooklyn bank. Mr. Pacino again starred, this time as Sonny, the leader of an amateurish gang of bank robbers whose plans go awry and who winds up taking hostages and demanding jet transport to a foreign country. It turns out that Sonny, although he has a wife at home, had planned the robbery to pay for his boyfriend’s sex-change operation. In 2009 the film was added to the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress.

New York, or at least a fantasy version of it, was even the backdrop for Mr. Lumet’s most uncharacteristic film, “The Wiz,” his 1978 musical version of the “The Wizard of Oz” starring Michael Jackson and Diana Ross. Roundly panned, it was also a box-office failure.

By the time he finished shooting “Night Falls on Manhattan” in 1996, Mr. Lumet had made 38 films, 29 of them on location in New York City. That film, written by Mr. Lumet and based on another Daley novel, “Tainted Evidence,” once again looked at the justice system as it moved from a shootout with drug dealers into a revealing courtroom trial.

The courthouse was one of Mr. Lumet’s favorite arenas for drama, beginning with “12 Angry Men.” He returned to it again in “The Verdict” (1982), with a screenplay by David Mamet and a cast led by Paul Newman as a down-at-the-heels lawyer who redeems himself and his career when he represents a malpractice victim in a legal battle with a hospital.

But his concerns could also range more broadly, to issues of national survival itself. One of the most sobering films of the cold war era was his 1964 adaptation of Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler’s novel, “Fail-Safe,” a taut examination of the threat of accidental nuclear war with Henry Fonda as the president of the United States and a young Larry Hagman as his Russian-speaking interpreter. The film concluded with a harrowing suggestion of an atomic blast on American soil, rendered as a series of glimpses of ordinary life — children playing, pigeons taking wing — simply stopping. The scenes were from the streets of New York.

Sidney Lumet was born on June 25, 1924, in Philadelphia. His father, Baruch, an actor, was born in Poland and moved his family to New York when Sidney was a baby and joined the Yiddish Art Theater. By the time he was 4, Sidney was appearing onstage with his father, and he went on to make his Broadway debut in 1935 as a street kid in Sidney Kingsley’s “Dead End.” He appeared in several more Broadway shows, including Maxwell Anderson’s “Journey to Jerusalem” in 1940, in which he played the young Jesus.

After wartime service as a radar technician in the Far East, Mr. Lumet returned to New York and started directing Off Broadway and in summer stock. His big break came in 1950 when he was hired by CBS and became a director on the television suspense series “Danger.” Other shows followed, including the history series “You Are There.”

His career soared in 1953 when he began directing original plays for dramatic series on CBS and NBC, including “Studio One,” “Playhouse 90” and “Kraft Television Theater,” eventually adding some 200 productions to his credits. He also returned to the theater to direct Albert Camus’s “Caligula,” with Kenneth Haigh as the Roman emperor, and George Bernard Shaw’s “Man and Superman,” among other plays.

Among the highlights of Mr. Lumet’s television years were a full-length production of Eugene O’Neill’s play “The Iceman Cometh,” with Jason Robards as the salesman Hickey and “12 Angry Men,” which he directed for television before turning it into his first film.

Some of Mr. Lumet’s early films had their origin in the theater. He directed Anna Magnani and Marlon Brando in “The Fugitive Kind” (1960), an adaptation of Tennessee Williams’s play “Orpheus Descending”; he traveled abroad to film part of Arthur Miller’s “View from the Bridge” (1962) in Paris, with Raf Vallone, Maureen Stapleton and Carol Lawrence, completing the film on the Brooklyn waterfront; and he returned to the world of O’Neill to film “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” (1962), with Katharine Hepburn and Ralph Richardson as the tormented Tyrones. His 1968 adaptation of Chekhov’s “Sea Gull,” however, was generally deemed uneven despite a stellar cast that included James Mason, Simone Signoret and Vanessa Redgrave.

A trainload of stars turned out for Mr. Lumet’s 1974 adaptation of Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express,” a project that took him abroad again, this time to Britain, France and Turkey, to film the famous whodunit in which the detective Hercule Poirot (Albert Finney) must single out a murderer from a crowd of suspects that included Lauren Bacall, Ingrid Bergman, Sean Connery and John Gielgud.

There was a run of less than successful films, including “Running on Empty” (1988), with Judd Hirsch and Christine Lahti as ’60s radicals still in hiding from the F.B.I. 20 years after participating in a bombing; the police drama “Q & A” (1990), with a screenplay by Mr. Lumet, about a racist New York detective (Nick Nolte); and “Critical Care” (1997), a satiric jab at the American health care system.

In 1995 Mr. Lumet published a well-received memoir, “Making Movies,” in which he summed up his view of directorial style: “Good style, to me, is unseen style. It is style that is felt.”

In 2001 he returned to television as executive producer, principal director and one of the writers of a new courtroom drama for cable television, “100 Centre Street” (the title was the address of the criminal court building in Lower Manhattan). The series, which ran for two seasons on A&E, had an ensemble cast with Alan Arkin as an all-too-forgiving judge known as Let-’em-Go Joe.

The director seemed immune to advancing age. Before long, he was behind the camera again. “Find Me Guilty” (2006), which starred Vin Diesel, was a freewheeling account of the events surrounding the federal prosecution of a New Jersey crime family.

And he marked his 83rd year with the 2007 release of his last feature film, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead,” the bleakly riveting story of two brothers (Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke) propelled by greed into a relentless cycle of mayhem. The film drew raves.

Mr. Lumet’s first three marriages, to the actress Rita Gam, Gloria Vanderbilt and Gail Jones, the daughter of Lena Horne, ended in divorce. He married Mary Gimbel in 1980. She survives him. Besides his stepdaughter, Ms. Gimbel, he is also survived by two daughters he had with Ms. Jones, Amy Lumet and Jenny Lumet, a screenwriter; a stepson, Bailey Gimbel; nine grandchildren and a great-grandson. Ms. Dargis called Mr. Lumet “one of the last of the great movie moralists.” Yet Mr. Lumet said he was never a crusader for social change. “I don’t think art changes anything,” he said in The Times interview. So why make movies? he was asked.

“It’s a wonderful way to spend your life,” he said.

Sidney Lumet [Wikipedia]


Must see film...Sol Nazerman's Existential angst in "The Pawnbroker"

Friday, April 8, 2011

X Minus One's "Protection"...old time radio offering #14

First published in April 1956 issue of Galaxy Science Fiction magazine.

Wikipedia...

X Minus One was a half-hour science fiction radio drama series broadcast from April 24, 1955 to January 9, 1958 in various timeslots on NBC.

Initially a revival of NBC's Dimension X (1950–51), the first 15 episodes of X Minus One were new versions of Dimension X episodes, but the remainder were adaptations by NBC staff writers, including Ernest Kinoy and George Lefferts, of newly published science fiction stories by leading writers in the field, including Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Philip K. Dick, Robert A. Heinlein, Frederik Pohl and Theodore Sturgeon, along with some original scripts by Kinoy and Lefferts.

Included in the series were adaptations of Robert Sheckley's "Skulking Permit," Bradbury's "Mars Is Heaven," Heinlein's "Universe" and "The Green Hills of Earth", " Pohl’s "The Tunnel under the World," J. T. McIntosh’s "Hallucination Orbit," Fritz Leiber’s "A Pail of Air" and George Lefferts' "The Parade."

The program opened with announcer Fred Collins delivering the countdown, leading into the following introduction (although later shows were partnered with Galaxy Science Fiction rather than Astounding Science Fiction): (Some would argue the intro countdown should have stopped at X minus one. As it was, the show should have been called: "Fire" with the resolution of the countdown as aired.)

Countdown for blastoff... X minus five, four, three, two, X minus one... Fire! [Rocket launch SFX] From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future; adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand may-be worlds. The National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of Astounding Science Fiction presents... X Minus One.

The series was canceled after the 126th broadcast on January 9, 1958. However, the early 1970s brought a wave of nostalgia for old-time radio; a new experimental episode, "The Iron Chancellor" by Robert Silverberg, was created in 1973, but it failed to revive the series. NBC also tried broadcasting the old recordings, but their irregular once-monthly scheduling kept even devoted listeners from following the broadcasts. All episodes of the show survive.

This offering...

"Protection"

When a man receives a guardian alien to watch over him, he doesn't realize just how much trouble he is really in for. Story by Robert Sheckley.

Original radio broadcast

Script...

X Minus 1

"Protection"

March 20th, 1957

SOUND:

HIGH-PITCHED ELECTRONIC HUM ... JOINED BY ELECTRONIC BEEPING IN AGREEMENT WITH COUNTDOWN

ANNOUNCER:

Countdown for blast-off. X minus five, four, three, two. X minus one. Fire.

SOUND:

A MOMENT'S SILENCE ... THEN ROCKET SHIP BLASTS OFF

MUSIC:

BUILDS VERTIGINOUSLY TO A CLIMAX ... THEN IN BG

ANNOUNCER:

From the far horizons of the unknown come tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future, adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine, presents -- (HEAVY ECHO) X Minus One!

MUSIC:

TO A CLIMAX ... THEN OUT

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight, "Protection" by Robert Sheckley.

MUSIC:

FOR AN INTRODUCTION ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) There will be an airplane crash in Burma next week, but it shouldn't affect me here in New York. And the feegs certainly can't harm me -- not with all my closet doors closed. No, the big problem is lesnerizing. I must not lesnerize. Absolutely not. As you can imagine, that hampers me. And to top it all, I think I'm catching a very nasty cold.

The whole thing, including the cold, started on the evening of November seventh. I was walking down Broadway on my way to Baker's Cafeteria with Charlie Lester. He's in one of my physics classes and we were both feeling pretty lightheaded. [X]

SOUND:

CITY TRAFFIC BACKGROUND ... PLUS BOB & CHARLIE'S FOOTSTEPS

CHARLIE:

Boy, I've had tough exams in my day but that was a-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo!

BOB:

Ha! You got a cold?

CHARLIE:

(SNIFFS) No, no, I haven't got a cold. My eyes just water, my nose runs, and I sneeze because I'm essentially a masochist. Actually, it is psychosomatic -- I hate my mother and my father. Of course I've got a cold! What do you think I-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo!

BOB:

Well, look, look, don't give it to me. I've got a heavy date with a Barnard junior this weekend.

CHARLIE:

My boy, there is no such thing as a heavy date with a Barnard junior.

BOB:

Ha ha. Never mind. Just don't blow any germs my way.

CHARLIE:

Well, as a matter of fact, I'll leave you completely. I have to go over to South Hall to pick up some books. So long. (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo!

MUSIC:

BIG GOOFY ACCENT ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) At the moment Charlie left me, I had in my pocket five coins, three keys, and a book of matches. Now, just to complete the picture, let me add that the wind was coming from the northwest at five miles per hour, Venus was in the ascendancy and the moon decidedly gibbous. You can draw your own conclusions from this. [X]

SOUND:

CITY TRAFFIC BACKGROUND

BOB:

(NARRATES) I reached the corner of One Hundred and Fourteenth Street and began to cross.

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) The truck! Watch out for the truck! Watch out!

SOUND:

RUMBLE! OF ONCOMING TRUCK, UNDER FOLLOWING--

BOB:

Huh? What truck? Who--? What? There's no truck on the street. What? Ooooh!

SOUND:

SQUEAL! OF TRUCK'S BRAKES ... THEN TRUCK DRIVES OFF

BOB:

(SIGHS) Oh! Oh, well, thanks, friend. If you hadn't warned me, I'd have-- Hey. Hey, where are ya? Who said that to me? Where are ya?

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) Can you still hear me?

BOB:

Well, sure I can. Where are ya? There isn't anybody here. Where are you?

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER, GRASPING FOR THE RIGHT WORD) Gronish. Is that the referent? Refraction index. Creature of insubstantiality. The Shadow knows. Did I pick the right one?

BOB:

You're - you're invisible?

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) That's it, that's it, that's it! I knew the concept was somewhere in you.

BOB:

(STAMMERS) Well, what are you?

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) A validusian derg.

BOB:

A vali--? A what?

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) I-- Would you mind opening your larynx a little wider please? You see, I am using your sub-vocalizations to communicate. Now, breathe deeply.

BOB:

(BREATHES DEEPLY, IN AND OUT)

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) That's it.

BOB:

(BREATHES DEEPLY, IN AND OUT)

DERG:

(LOUD WHISPER) That's it. (SIGHS, NO LONGER A WHISPER) That's better! Well! Let's see now. I am the Spirit of Christmas Past. The Creature from the Black Lagoon. The Bride of Frankenstein. The--

BOB: Now, wait a minute, hold on. What are you trying to tell me -- that you're a ghost or a creature from another planet?

DERG:

Same thing, obviously.

BOB:

(IRONIC) Oh, well, that makes it all perfectly clear. Any fool can see that a disembodied voice must belong to someone from another planet.

DERG:

Exactly! I'm invisible on Earth, but my superior senses spotted approaching danger and warned you of it.

BOB:

Well, thanks. (CHUCKLES) Thanks, anyway, about that. Well, what are you? One of those strange voices that warns Aunt Minnie to stay out of the elevator -- which then crashes to the basement?

DERG:

Something like that.

BOB:

Uh huh. Well, goodbye.

DERG:

What's the matter?

BOB:

Well, not a thing, except that I seem to be standing in the middle of One Hundred and Fourteenth Street talking to an invisible alien from the farthest reaches of outer space. I suppose only _I_ can hear you?

DERG:

Well, naturally.

BOB:

Oh, great. Well, you know where this sort of thing will land me.

DERG:

The concept you are sub-vocalizing is not entirely clear.

BOB:

Now, look, please. Go back to one of my childhood traumas where you came from and let me alone. Uh, thanks for the warning about the truck. Good night.

DERG:

Where are you going?

BOB:

I am going to a saloon down the street, much frequented by Columbia students.

DERG:

Won't you talk with me?

BOB:

(LOW) Look, please, will you cut it out? There are two girls watching me now.

DERG:

But you must talk to me. The real sub-vocal contact is very rare and astonishingly difficult. Sometimes I can get across a warning just before a dangerous moment. But then the connection fades.

BOB:

Well, you mean that is the explanation of premonitions of danger?

DERG:

That's right. Conditions might not be right for this kind of contact for another hundred years!

BOB:

Look, this is very interesting stuff -- for Professor Rhine at North Carolina, not for the physics department at Columbia. I have heard statistics about the overcrowding of mental hospitals -- and I am not interested in contributing to that condition. (LOW) Besides, there's a cop looking at me.

DERG:

I appreciate your social situation, but this contact with me is in your own best interests. I want to protect you from the myriad dangers of human existence.

BOB:

(LOW) Get lost.

DERG:

Well, I can't force you. I'll just have to offer my services elsewhere. Goodbye, friend.

BOB:

Goodbye.

DERG:

Oh -- just one last thing. Stay off subways tomorrow between noon and one-fifteen P.M., hmmm?

BOB:

Why?

DERG:

Someone will be killed at Columbus Circle -- pushed in front of a train by shopping crowds. You, if you're there. Goodbye.

BOB:

No, wait. Someone will be killed there tomorrow? Are you sure?

DERG:

Of course.

BOB:

It'll be in the newspapers?

DERG:

Huh. I should imagine so.

BOB:

(SLOWLY) And you know all sorts of stuff like that?

DERG:

I can perceive all the dangers that radiate toward you and extend into time. My one desire was to protect you from them.

BOB:

Oh. Well, uh-- Look, will you wait till tomorrow evening? Those two girls are giggling now.

DERG:

(HOPEFUL) You will let me be your protector?

BOB:

I'll tell you tomorrow after I read the late papers.

MUSIC:

ACCENT ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) The item was there, all right. I read it in my furnished room at One Hundred and Thirteenth Street. Man pushed by the crowd, lost his balance, fell in front of an oncoming train. Well, this gave me a lot to think about while I waited for my invisible protector to show up. By the time he contacted me, I didn't know that I liked the whole idea. [X]

DERG:

Don't you trust me?

BOB:

I just want to lead a normal life.

DERG:

If you lead any life at all. That truck last night--?

BOB:

That was a freak, a once-in-a-lifetime hazard.

DERG:

It only takes once in a lifetime to die. There was the subway, too.

BOB:

Oh, well, that doesn't count. I hadn't planned on riding it today.

DERG:

But you had no reason not to ride it -- that's the important thing! Just as you have no reason not to take a shower in the next hour.

BOB:

(BEAT) Why shouldn't I?

DERG:

A Miss Flynn, who lives down the hall, is now taking her shower and will leave a melting bar of pink soap on the pink tile of the bathroom floor. You would have slipped on it and suffered a sprained wrist.

BOB:

Um-- Not fatal, huh?

DERG:

No. Hardly in the same class with, let us say, a heavy flower-pot pushed from a rooftop by a certain unstable old gentleman.

BOB:

Well, uh-- When is that gonna happen?

DERG:

I thought you weren't interested.

BOB:

I am very interested. When? Where?

DERG:

Will you let me continue to protect you?

BOB:

Well, now, just tell me one thing. What's in this for you?

DERG:

Satisfaction! For a validusian derg, the greatest thrill possible is to help another creature evade danger.

BOB:

But isn't there something else you want out of this? Some trifle like my soul, or rulership of the Earth?

DERG:

Nothing. To accept payment for protection would ruin the emotional experience. All I want out of life -- all any derg wants -- is to protect someone from the dangers he cannot see, but which we can see all too well. (BEAT) We don't even expect gratitude.

BOB:

Hmm. What about the flowerpot?

DERG:

It'll be dropped at the corner of Tenth Street and McAdams Boulevard at ten-thirty tomorrow morning.

BOB:

Uh, Tenth and McAdams? Where's that?

DERG:

In Jersey City.

BOB:

(EXASPERATED) Well, now, I've never been to Jersey City in my life! Why warn me about that?

DERG:

I don't know where you will or won't go. I merely perceive dangers to you wherever they may occur.

BOB:

What should I do now?

DERG:

Anything you wish. Just - lead your normal life.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE ... FOR LEADING A NORMAL LIFE ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) It started out well enough. I attended classes at Columbia, did homework, saw movies, went on dates, played table tennis and chess, all as before. At no time did I let on that I was under the protection of a validusian derg. (CHUCKLES) Even Charlie didn't notice it. Though he had a pretty good excuse. [X]

CHARLIE:

Boy, are you lucky! I got stuck in that elevator for four hours. Say, how come you walked? I never saw you volunteer to walk five flights before.

BOB:

(AMUSED) Oh ho, well-- A little bird told me.

CHARLIE:

Boy, I wish I-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo! (SNIFFS, EXHALES) I wish _I_ had a little bird like that.

BOB:

Why don't you do something for that cold?

CHARLIE:

Oh, why should I? What's it ever done for me?

MUSIC:

BIG GOOFY ACCENT ... THEN A COMIC WHIRLWIND IN BG, FADES OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) Not even the derg had warned me about Charlie's bad jokes in time. But he did his best -- and once or twice a day, he'd come around and report.

DERG:

Loose grating on West End Avenue between Sixty-Sixth and Sixty-Seventh Streets. Don't walk on it.

BOB:

(NARRATES) Of course I wouldn't. Once I got used to it, it gave me quite a feeling of security. But the derg soon became overzealous on my behalf. He began finding more and more dangers.

DERG:

Look out for an overhanging sign on the Hotel Nationale!

BOB:

Where? Forty-Eighth Street?

DERG:

Mexico City.

MUSIC:

UP FOR AN ACCENT

DERG:

Don't go to the hockey game tonight!

BOB:

Where?

DERG:

Toronto.

MUSIC:

UP FOR AN ACCENT

DERG:

Look out for the Elm Street bus!

BOB:

Philadelphia?

DERG:

Omaha.

MUSIC:

UP FOR AN ACCENT

DERG:

Don't go surf riding today!

BOB:

Surf riding? Where?

DERG:

Papeete.

BOB:

Now, just wait a minute! [X] Do you plan on reporting every potential danger on Earth?!

DERG:

Oh, these are only a few -- only a very few -- that you may be affected by.

BOB:

In Mexico City and Papeete? Why not confine yourself to the local picture? Greater New York, let's say.

DERG:

Locale means nothing to me. (REVERENT) I must protect you from everything!

MUSIC:

SYMPATHETIC ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) Well, it was rather touching, in a way. And there was nothing I could do about it. I simply had to discard from his reports the various dangers in places like Hoboken, Thailand, Kansas City, Angkor Wat, Sarasota and Paris. I concentrated pretty much on Manhattan. He did save me from a pretty nasty holdup on Cathedral Parkway and a four-alarm fire. But he kept stepping up the pace.

DERG:

Tainted food in Baker's Cafeteria. Don't eat there tonight. ---- Amsterdam Bus Three-Twelve has bad brakes. Don't ride it. ---- Mellen's Tailor Shop has a leaking gas line. Explosion due. Have your clothes dry-cleaned elsewhere. ---- Rabid mongrel on prowl between Riverside Drive and Central Park West. Take a taxi!

BOB:

(NARRATES) Soon I was spending most of my time not doing things, and avoiding places. Danger seemed to be lurking behind every lamp post, waiting for me. I rather suspected the derg of padding his report. [X]

DERG:

(OFFENDED) All my reports are perfectly genuine. If you don't believe me, try turning on your lights in the psychology class tomorrow.

BOB:

Why?

DERG:

(SMUG) Defective wiring.

BOB:

Look, I don't doubt your warnings. I just don't think life was this dangerous before you came along.

DERG:

Well, of course it wasn't. Surely you know that if you accept protection, you must accept the drawbacks of protection as well.

BOB:

Drawbacks like what?

DERG:

Protection begets the need of further protection. That is a universal constant. Before you met me, you were like everyone else and you ran into such risks as the situation offered. But with my coming, your immediate environment has changed, and your position in it has changed, too.

BOB:

Why?

DERG:

Because it has me in it. It is well known that the avoidance of one danger opens the path to others.

BOB:

(UPSET) Are you trying to tell me that my risks have increased because of your help?!

DERG:

It was unavoidable.

BOB:

Why, you miserable extraterrestrial con man--!

DERG:

Now, look--

BOB:

All right, all right. Thanks for everything. (CHUCKLES DARKLY) I'll see you on Mars or wherever you hang out.

DERG:

You - don't want any further protection?

BOB:

You guessed it. Don't slam the door on your way out.

DERG:

But what's wrong? Your risks have increased -- but my capacity for detection is more than ample to cope with it. I'm happy to cope with it! So it still represents a net gain in protection for you.

BOB:

Yeah, I know what happens next. My risks just keep on increasing, don't they?

DERG:

Not at all. As far as accidents are concerned, you have reached the quantitative limit.

BOB:

What does that mean?

DERG:

It means that there will be no further increase in the number of accidents you must avoid.

BOB:

Look, if you leave me alone, my original environment will return, won't it? And, with it, my original risks?

DERG:

Eventually. If you survive.

BOB:

Fine! I'll take that chance.

DERG:

You cannot afford to send me away. Tomorrow--

BOB:

No, no, no! No! Don't tell me. I'll avoid the accidents on my own.

DERG:

(QUIETLY) I wasn't thinking of accidents.

BOB:

What then?

DERG:

I - I hardly know how to tell you. A gamper is after you.

BOB:

Oh, a gam-- A what? Now, what kind of a gag is this?

DERG:

A gamper is a creature from my environment. I suppose he was attracted by your increased potentiality for avoiding risk, due to my protection.

BOB:

Now, look, you can take your gamper and--

DERG:

If he comes, try driving him off with mistletoe. Uh, iron is often effective, if bonded to copper. Also--

BOB:

Will you get out of here?!

DERG:

Are you sure?

BOB:

Beat it! Blow! Scram! Get out! Go on!

DERG:

(MOVING OFF) All right. All right. Goodbye. Goodbye.

BOB:

(BEAT, SOFTLY) Are you gone? (BEAT, NERVOUS) Are you really gone? (SIGHS, TO HIMSELF) Good riddance.

SOUND:

OMINOUS HUMMING FADES IN DURING ABOVE ... GROWS LOUDER ... LIKE AN EVIL VACUUM CLEANER MOVING IN FOR THE KILL ... IN BG

BOB:

Wait. What's that? (NO ANSWER) Derg, is that you? (NO ANSWER) Hey, your motor's running. (BEAT) Derg? (PANICS) What is it?! What is that?! What is that?! Oh, it's the gamper! Derg, get me out of this! Derg! Derg, get me out! Derg! Come back! Derg!

DERG:

Did you call? Oh! The gamper. Uh, mistletoe, mistletoe! Wave it at the gamper.

BOB:

Where in blazes am I gonna get mistletoe?

DERG:

Iron and copper then!

BOB:

Copper, copper. Oh, I've got a paperweight on my desk.

DERG:

The chair leg is iron! Touch it with the copper! Quick!

SOUND:

CLANK! OF IRON AND COPPER ... OMINOUS HUMMING FADES OUT

DERG:

(PAUSE) You see? You need my protection. The gamper almost got you.

BOB:

(BREATHLESS) Yes. Yes, it sure did.

DERG:

(SIGHS) You'll need some things. Uh, wolfbane, amarinth, garlic, graveyard mold--

BOB:

(STAMMERS) But the gamper is gone.

DERG:

Yes, yes. However, the grailers remain. And you'll need safeguards against the leeps, the feegs, and the melgerizer. I'll give you a list.

MUSIC:

QUIRKY BRIDGE

BOB:

(NARRATES) He gave me a list and I went shopping. I ran into Charlie at the supermarket.

SOUND:

SUPERMARKET BACKGROUND

CHARLIE:

Hey, Bob! Where you been?

BOB:

(A NERVOUS WRECK, TO HIMSELF) "Wolfbane, amarinth, garlic--" Garlic? They must have garlic.

CHARLIE:

Well, sure, they got garlic over here-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo! (SNIFFLES, EXHALES) Well, I guess you know what _I_ came in for.

BOB:

Uh, tissues?

CHARLIE:

What else?

BOB:

(CHUCKLES) Yeah. Well, let me see, uh, "graveyard mold." Graveyard mold? Do you think they'd have it here?

CHARLIE:

Hey, boy, what's the matter with you? You look white as a ghost.

BOB:

I'm white as a gamper. Or a grailer. Or a leep or a feeg.

CHARLIE:

Well, what is that -- jive talk?

BOB:

Please, please, Charlie, don't bother me. I'm busy!

CHARLIE:

All right-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo!

BOB:

(THOUGHTFUL) Who has the nearest graveyard that would be moldy this time of year?

MUSIC:

SOMBER ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

BOB:

(NARRATES) It was a game between these extraterrestrials, and I was in it. Some of them wanted to kill me; some, to protect me. None of them cared for me, not even the derg. And the situation was all my fault. At the beginning, I had had the accumulated wisdom of the human race at my disposal, that tremendous and distinctive hatred of witches and ghosts, the irrational fear of alien life. For my adventure has been played out a thousand times, and the story is told again and again -- how a man dabbles in strange arts and summons up a spirit. By so doing, he attracts attention to himself -- the worst thing of all. So I was welded inseparably to the derg and the derg to me. Until yesterday, that is. Charlie came to my room to visit. [X]

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES

CHARLIE:

Hey, boy, how you been? Haven't see you in class for a while-- (SNEEZES) Ah - ah - ah-choo! (SNIFFLES, EXHALES) Do you mind if I hang up my coat--?

BOB:

(NERVOUS) No, no, no. No, no, no. No, don't. No. Don't open the closet door.

CHARLIE:

Well, what's the matter? What's in there?

BOB:

Nothing. Nothing. Only that's the only way to hold off the feegs, by keeping closet doors closed.

CHARLIE:

The--?

BOB:

The leeps are more menacing, but the eye of a toad seems to stop them. And, uh, the melgerizer is dangerous only in the full of the Moon.

CHARLIE:

Only in the--? Uh huh. (SMACKS LIPS) Well, Bob, it's been grand. Bye.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

DERG:

(SOLEMN) You are in danger.

BOB:

(NERVOUS) What? Who? What, again? What is it this time?

DERG:

It is the thrang who pursues us.

BOB:

Us?

DERG:

Yes. Yes, myself as well as you, for even a derg must run from risk and danger.

BOB:

Well, is this thrang particularly dangerous?

DERG:

(A SHUDDER-SIGH) Very.

BOB:

Well, what do I do? Snakeskin over the door? A pentagon? Burn incense? Anything?

DERG:

None of these. The thrang must be dealt with negatively, by the avoidance of certain actions.

BOB:

(RESIGNED) All right, all right. What shouldn't I do?

DERG:

You must not lesnerize.

BOB:

I must-- Lesnerize? What's that?

DERG:

Well, surely you know. It's a simple, everyday human action.

BOB:

Well, I probably know it under a different name. Explain.

SOUND:

WEIRD HUM ... FADES IN, GROWS LOUDER, IN BG

DERG:

Very well. To lesnerize is to--

BOB:

(BEAT) What?

DERG:

(TENSE) It is here! The thrang! The thrang is here!

BOB:

(PANICS) Derg! Derg! Where are you? What should I do?

DERG:

(IN HORROR) It has me!

BOB:

What should I do?!

DERG:

(YELLS) It has me! I'm going! The thrang! Don't lesnerize! Don't lesnerize! Don't lesnerize! (DROWNED OUT BY HUM--)

SOUND:

WEIRD HUM REACHES A CRESCENDO, THEN RAPIDLY FADES OUT

MUSIC:

UNEASY ... THEN IN BG

BOB:

(NARRATES) So I'm sitting tight now. There'll be an airplane crash in Burma next week, but it shouldn't affect me here in New York. And the feegs certainly can't harm me. No. Not with all my closet doors closed. No, the problem is lesnerizing. I must not lesnerize. Absolutely not. If I can keep from lesnerizing, everything will pass and the chase will move elsewhere. It must! All I have to do is wait them out.

Trouble is, I don't have any idea what lesnerizing might be. A common human action, the derg said. Well, at the moment, I'm avoiding as many actions as possible. I've caught up on some back sleep and nothing's happened. So that's not lesnerizing. I went out and bought food, cooked it, and ate it. That wasn't lesnerizing. I'm telling you the story. And that isn't lesnerizing. (CHUCKLES) I'll get out of this yet. I will get out of it!

I'm gonna catch a nap now. I think I've caught Charlie's cold. (STARTS TO SNEEZE) I think I'm gonna hafta-- Ah - ah - ah--

SOUND:

LONG PAUSE

ANNOUNCER:

You have been listening to "Protection," by Robert Sheckley, on "X Minus One."

MUSIC:

FOR A BIG FINISH

ANNOUNCER:

"X Minus One" is presented by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine which this month features "Survival Kit" by Frederik Pohl, the story of Mooney, a smart but luckless man who had to scrounge while his friend Harse always made out well, just because he owned - a survival kit. Galaxy Magazine, on your newsstand today.

MUSIC:

CLOSING THEME SNEAKS IN UNDER FOLLOWING--

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight, "X Minus One" has brought you "Protection," a story from the pages of Galaxy written by Robert Sheckley and adapted for radio by Ernest Kinoy. Featured in our cast were William Redfield as Bob -- of the final and fatal sneeze, Elliott Reid as his breezy pal Charlie, and William Keene as the foreseeing derg. Your announcer, Fred Collins. "X Minus One" was directed by Kenneth MacGregor and is an NBC Radio Network production.

MUSIC:

TO A FINISH ... NBC CHIMES


X Minus One's "How 2"...old time radio offering #1

X Minus One's "Student Body"...old time radio offering #2

X Minus One's "A Gun for Dinosaur"...old time radio offering #3

X Minus One's "Tunnel Under the World"...old time radio offering #4

X Minus One's "Junkyard"...old time radio offering #5

X Minus One's "Marionettes, Inc."...old time radio offering #6

X Minus One's "Skulking Permit"...old time radio offering #7

X Minus One's "Something for Nothing"...old time radio offering #8

X Minus One's "Project Mastodon"...old time radio offering #9

X Minus One's "The Veldt"...old time radio offering #10

X Minus One's "The Coffin Cure"...old time radio offering #11

X Minus One's "The Defenders"...old time radio offering #12


X Minus One's "Knock"...old time radio offering #13

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Battlefield acoustical confusion


PBS has been running the old Civil War documentary by Ken Burns. On the fourth broadcast day there was a less than sixty second reference to an unusual phenomena...

What do the following sites have in common as made manifest by observational accounts: Gettysburg, Seven Pines, Iuka, Fort Donelson, Five Forks, Perryville and Chancellorsville...an acoustical phenomena.

Wikipedia...

An acoustic shadow is an area through which sound waves fail to propagate, due to topographical obstructions or disruption of the waves via phenomena such as wind currents. A gobo refers to a movable acoustic isolation panel and that makes an acoustic shadow. As one website refers to it, "an acoustic shadow is to sound what a mirage is to light"[1]. For example, at the Battle of Iuka, a northerly wind prevented General Ulysses S. Grant from hearing the sounds of battle and sending more troops. Many other instances of acoustic shadowing were prevalent during the American Civil War, including the Battles of Seven Pines, Gaines' Mill, Perryville and Five Forks. Indeed, this is addressed in the Ken Burns' documentary "The Civil War" (produced and aired on PBS, September 1990). Persons nearby would see the smoke and flashes of light but not the corresponding roar of battle, while those in more distant locations would hear the sounds distinctly.

------

Battle of Gaines’s Mill – More than 91,000 men were engaged in battle at Gaines’s Mill, Virginia on June 27, 1862. Confederate commanders and troops were less than two miles from the battlefield and could plainly see the smoke and flashes from the guns and artillery, but not a sound could be heard of the battle for two hours. Strangely, the battle sounds from the Battle of Gaines’s Mill were easily heard in Staunton, Virginia over one hundred miles away.

Five Forks – Fives Forks was fought from March 30 to April 1, 1865 and was part of the Appomattox Campaign. Confederate Generals George Pickett and Fitzhugh Lee were enjoying a shad bake with other generals north of Hatcher’s Run when the battle of Five Forks began a short distance away. Because of Acoustic Shadow, Pickett and Fitzhugh Lee were unaware a fight was under way. Pickett finally responded, but arrived late for the battle. Pickett and Fitzhugh Lee have been criticized by Civil War historians for not acting on "the dread immediacy of the crisis" at Five Forks.

The Battle of Gettysburg – The battle sounds from Gettysburg fought on July 1, 2, and 3, 1863 could be heard over one hundred miles away in Pittsburgh, but were not heard only ten miles from the battlefield.

"Thunderstorms and Cannons"

Civil War Acoustic Shadows

by

Charles D. Ross

ISBN: 1572492546

Martin Rees and the Templeton prize


"Martin Rees and the Templeton prize: why are the atheists so cross?"

It should be a happy story – top boffin gives correct answer to question: would you like £1m, no strings attached? Instead, a shower of abuse descends upon his head

by

Michael White

April 7th, 2011

guardian.co.uk

Good news for us slowcoaches this morning. Brilliant scientists at some of our great seats of learning, men whose lives are devoted to the rational pursuit of knowledge, turn out to be capable of as much intolerance and stupidity as the rest of us.

What have they done this time? They've hurled abuse and reproach on Lord Rees of Ludlow – the astronomer royal and recent past president of the Royal Society – for accepting a £1m prize from a body called the Templeton Foundation, whose website you can check out here.

Ian Sample's chat with Rees is here, and Rees's acceptance speech (all this happened on Tuesday) is here.

"From big bang to big bucks", as the headline writer wittily put it. It should be a happy story: top boffin gives correct answer to no-brainer question – "Would you like £1m, no strings attached?" – without having to phone a friend. Instead, a meteor shower of abuse descends upon his head.

I'm more puzzled by this kind of abusive behaviour than I am surprised. Deep down, we all know that great men of science can be as petty and spiteful – Bill Bryson's Short History of Nearly Everything sets it out with gusto – as politicians, footballers or captains of industry.

Sir John Templeton (1912-2008) doesn't sound like one of those, mind you. He was an American, a successful Wall Street investor (here's his bio) who made a pile of money and set up his foundation to promote what the foundation's slogan describes as "supporting science – investing in the big questions."

As far as I can see, there's no suggestion he made his money as a crack dealer or a trader in sex slaves. What upsets part of the scientific community – needless to say, Oxford's most militant atheist, Richard Dawkins, is part of the chorus – is their belief that Templeton, an enthusiastic Presbyterian, tries to blur the boundary between science and religion, making a virtue of belief without evidence.

Well, well, that's pretty serious. Belief without evidence, eh? I was having a drink only last night with a chap who left the pub early to go home and catch the Manchester United v Chelsea game. He did so in the evidence-free (and misplaced) belief that Chelsea would win. We all do things like that, don't we?

Rees himself declined to discuss the matter on Radio 4's Today programme. But he did take issue with the Dawkinsites – "professional atheists" he called them – for risking the possibility that a pious young Muslim who is forced to choose between God and Charles Darwin will reject science in favour of faith.

The enjoyably funny part of all this is that Rees himself admits to being a non-believer, albeit one who sometimes goes to church and has a good time there.

He's born and bred CoE and admires the gentle traditions of the Anglican church which are, incidentally, under attack from wild-eyed and intolerant evangelical Anglicans as well as from papists and atheists.

All sorts of friends and colleagues are cross. Nobel laureate Professor Sir Harry Kroto writes in reproachful terms in today's Times about how the sneaky Templeton folk "using enormous amounts of money as their lure" (well spotted, Harry) try to promote religion which he describes as "congenital wishful thinking".

To qualify for the prize, all you have to do is say there is no conflict between science and religion, protests the prof. He wants Rees to hand over the wonga to the British Humanist Association.

I hope he doesn't. What a waste! Take Lady R on a nice cruise, at the very least take her on a shopping spree in that nice new Cambridge mall before you do that, Marty.

It's true that dubious characters like Billy Graham and Mother Theresa have received the Templeton prize since its inception in 1974. But so, apparently, did the former Dominican priest and molecular biologist, Francisco Ayala, who advised Bill Clinton on how to overturn a law in his native Arkansas that would have allowed schools to teach creationism in science classes.

I'd have thought that instance alone would have given Kroto and his kind cause for reflection. But no, Jerry Coyne, a University of Chicago biologist, says Templeton "wants to make faith a virtue". They're trying to protect Rees and impressionable souls from such wickedness.

Apart from the fact that there is plenty of non-religious nonsense people can believe in – astrology, Chelsea FC, the Sun newspaper – I'd have expected the blowhards to have enough respect for Rees to let him sort this out unaided. He does hold the Order of Merit, one of the very few British honours still untainted by the usual stuff.

If that wasn't enough, you might think that heavyweight scientists might remember the intolerance that marked the history of their own trade in the modern era.

From the 17th century until the 20th, they had to be wary of publishing conclusions which explicitly challenged the existence of a deity. You could lose your livelihood, or worse, if you were suspected of atheism. Surely we are not now so arrogant that we are tempted to reverse the proof?

In any case, many of our greatest scientists – Darwin, Michael Faraday, Isaac Newton – were men of faith. If Newton, perhaps the greatest scientific mind in history, could reconcile faith and reason ("Gravity is God") Rees should be able to sleep soundly, cheque in hand.


Great idea from Martin Rees on space exploration and man

Professor Rees' perspective

For more on the Templeton Prize, just enter same in the blog's search engine.