Sunday, 14 November 2010
Neil Arnold, in conjunction with Time Out magazine - An Autumn Monster Walk
For Halloween 2010 Time Out magazine ran an article on monster folklore around the capital. Neil Arnold was consulted and the magazine put togetehr a brief walk through the city streets to tie in with various locatiosn where monsters and strange creatures had been seen in the past. To find out more, read about it at TIME OUT
Thursday, 11 November 2010
Spring-Heeled Jack - a monster for the milliennium ?
Volume Three of It Happened To Me ( a booklet compiled by the editor's of Fortean Times magazine) mentions a peculiar incident reported by a 'Kevin' from 2003 pertaining to a possible modern-day encounter with the fabled Spring-Heeeled Jack. To quote:
'I was making my way to Faringdon train station after having spent an evening out with friends in the Clerkenwell area of London. Not knowing the place very well, I got a bit lost and ended up walking the streets, looking for someone to ask directions. London seemed strangely deserted that night and I freely admit I was starting to worry, about missing my train home more than anything else, but I also had the feeling of unease you only get if you are totally unfamiliar with your surroundings.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a darting figure and turned instinctively to look. The alley was lit sporadically by old-fashioned street lamps, and it was behind one of these lamps that I thought I could make out the shape of a figure trying to conceal himself. I pondered for a second on what it could be. I decided I would react to it in the traditional English manner - avert my gaze and pretend nothing was happening. As I was putting this plan into action, I heard a burst of shrill laughter. I turned to face the alleyway once more. Coming toward me in great lolloping movements was a tall, thin figure. It moved silently and was dressed in what looked like tight black leather. I could not make out its face, but i was transfixed by this apparition. It moved as if it were dancing in reverse, coming closer toward me, moving like a giant strong puppet. Just as I gathered my wits enough to run, it issued another ear-piercing laugh, crouched on the ground, then shot off upwards out of my view. I did not try to see where it had leapt to - I ran as fast as I could until I found a main road. I followed the main road to the station and only just got the train home. I have no idea what it was - probably a practical joke of some kind. However, a search on the Internet the next day brought up the name Spring-Heeled Jack, not seen in London since the Victorian era,'
'I was making my way to Faringdon train station after having spent an evening out with friends in the Clerkenwell area of London. Not knowing the place very well, I got a bit lost and ended up walking the streets, looking for someone to ask directions. London seemed strangely deserted that night and I freely admit I was starting to worry, about missing my train home more than anything else, but I also had the feeling of unease you only get if you are totally unfamiliar with your surroundings.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a darting figure and turned instinctively to look. The alley was lit sporadically by old-fashioned street lamps, and it was behind one of these lamps that I thought I could make out the shape of a figure trying to conceal himself. I pondered for a second on what it could be. I decided I would react to it in the traditional English manner - avert my gaze and pretend nothing was happening. As I was putting this plan into action, I heard a burst of shrill laughter. I turned to face the alleyway once more. Coming toward me in great lolloping movements was a tall, thin figure. It moved silently and was dressed in what looked like tight black leather. I could not make out its face, but i was transfixed by this apparition. It moved as if it were dancing in reverse, coming closer toward me, moving like a giant strong puppet. Just as I gathered my wits enough to run, it issued another ear-piercing laugh, crouched on the ground, then shot off upwards out of my view. I did not try to see where it had leapt to - I ran as fast as I could until I found a main road. I followed the main road to the station and only just got the train home. I have no idea what it was - probably a practical joke of some kind. However, a search on the Internet the next day brought up the name Spring-Heeled Jack, not seen in London since the Victorian era,'
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