In the comments section of Road-Maps to a Kinder World – Part Two there was a little exchange involving myself, BJ Muirhead, Dissident and A. concerning an incident I recalled having read in Francis Kilvert’s Diaries:

“a man comes into a room where Kilvert happens to be with a partially undressed little girl and him (the man, not Kilvert) getting the wrong impression (or so Kilvert implies) and becoming very cross, calling Kilvert ‘a bounder’ or ‘a cad’ or some such thing…”

Dissident commented “I didn’t read that passage...” and A. “I don’t remember that part of Kilvert’s diary, but I have the abridged one-volume version…”.

Bredwardine church 8.3.15 015
Francis Kilvert

A re-read of his diaries proved A.’s and Dissident’s memories to be more reliable than mine: no such passage exists in Kilvert’s diaries. And now I must undertake the slow book-work of tracking down the true source of this incident, involving (what I remember to be) an upright Victorian gentleman with fondness for little girls, and maybe some connection to the cloth…(the letters or biography of Lewis Carroll? Ruskin’s autobiography ‘Praeterita’..?).

But what I did find in his diaries proved so delightful and beautiful that I thought it might be worth sharing some entries with the readers of this blog.

bat-shit-crazy, lizard-spotting, tin-foil-hat-wearing delusionists

I used to go to the Old School, Clyro when I was a kid on school activity trips etc to get kids out of the city. The place always gave me the creeps so I did a bit of research. Francis Kilvert was a resident and prolific paedophile.”

This quote comes from the official forum of that bat-shit-crazy, lizard-spotting, tin-foil-hat-wearing delusionist David Icke. Readers will be able to decide for themselves, from the diary entries below, whether Kilvert was indeed a ‘paedophile’, and if so, whether he was a ‘prolific’ one (whatever that may mean).

Ironically, I have selected those diary entries that might best prove blue_bear’s case – after all my intention is to interest and delight the readers of this blog, the great majority of whom are either paedophiles or sympathetic to paedophilia. However the reader new to Kilvert should not expect his diaries to be a paedo sex-romp: they will find little that might lead him (or her) to lose mastery of their domain.

Indeed if one were to reckon up the amount of words expended on the delights of little girls I’d guess that they would constitute less than two percent of the text, though if you also include his appreciation of adolescent girls and young women this percentage would significantly rise.

Of course, Blue_bear’s comment is as an anthology of ignorance and crooked thinking. I find something particularly jarring just in his use of the word ‘paedophile’ to describe Kilvert – a jar I increasingly experience whenever I read about child lovers from other ages.

I have doubts about the use of the word ‘paedophile’ when referring to someone outside of a WEIRD culture: the word is a cultural product, as are all of the concepts that it is freighted with. A dictionary definition (e.g. ‘an adult who has the capacity to find prepubescents sexually attractive’) can provide the word with a stable core that makes it applicable to all societies and historical periods – but like a ship sinking under a burden of barnacles, the effective weight of the word lies in its accretions, baggage and impedimenta.

If we use the word of a Victorian, we do so retrospectively: the Victorians, it seems, had no word or phrase which covered the concept: the closest might be ‘ravisher of maidens’, ‘collector of first editions’, bounder, cad or ‘vile seducer’.

So, yes, we can maybe take the word ‘paedophile’ and ask whether it fits Kilvert – provided we use it strictu sensu. But if used strictu sensu I strongly suspect that the word would be applicable to all humans that have made it into adulthood; and when a word becomes valid for the entire population to which it is applicable it loses its capacity to distinguish and define, and therefore its meaning.

However the word ‘paedophile’ as used in WEIRD society does have the capacity to distinguish and define, as we know all too well. But let’s be clear – it is hardly the core dictionary definition that does this work, but rather the heavy load of subsidiary concepts, prejudices, competing narratives, untruths that suffocate and weigh down the word.

Effectively its accretions, not its core definition, give the word ‘paedophile’ its meaning – and those accretions are too protean and ever-changing to be useful outside the WEIRD context – nearly everything that gives the word meaning is up for grabs and nearly every part of that meaning is a product of the past few decades of WEIRD society.

But I won’t pursue these thoughts any further here – since every word I spend churning away at this rather abstract issue is a word fewer of Kilvert’s.

Francis Kilvert

Robert Francis Kilvert was born in 1840 in Chippenham, Wiltshire, and educated at Oxford university. In 1865 he went on to become the curate to the parish of Clyro, in the Welsh Marches, and then curate to several other parishes in the region.

His diaries run from 1870 to just before he died at the age of 38, soon after his marriage and honeymoon in 1879.

After his death his wife destroyed any parts of the diaries which dealt with their courtship or which she judged as being scandalous (cf. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson’s journals). Twenty-two notebooks survived but, decades later, an elderly niece of Kilvert, in a fit of over-enthusiastic house-clearing, threw most of these out, leaving only the three notebooks that now survive (one wonders at what was lost: could there have been an entry somewhere reading ‘splendid romp with Gipsy Lizzie’?).

The surviving diaries reveal Kilvert’s lucid and observant style: with a few deft strokes, and with deceptive ease, he paints vivid and memorable pictures of life in the English countryside in mid-Victorian times.

His humanity and emotional intelligence means that his people feel as real and as alive as ourselves. Kilvert moved with ease amongst both the landowners and the labourers of his parish. He was good-natured, modest, innocent, truthful and unworldly, sociable, attractive, sensitive, and generous-spirited. He loved children and was susceptible to feminine beauty, especially that of little girls and young women. He was also a nudist, or at least a defiantly nude swimmer.

Gipsy Lizzie

I thought I’d have a special section for Kilvert’s most famous love: a little girl from the village primary school called Elizabeth Harris, who was admitted to the Clyro village school in September 1868, at the age of seven.

The following is Kilvert’s first mention of her. Compare his attributions of innocence to her with his entry for Monday, 16 February 1874.

Monday, 4 July 1870

Since the inspection the classes and standards at the school have been rearranged and Gipsy Lizzie has been put into my reading class. How is the indescribable beauty of that most lovely face to be described – the dark soft curls parting back from the pure white transparent brow, the exquisite little mouth and pearly tiny teeth, the pure straight delicate features, the long dark fringes and white eyelids that droop over and curtain her eyes, when they are cast down or bent upon her book, and seem to rest upon the soft clear cheek, and when the eyes are raised, that clear unfathomable blue depth of wide wonder and enquiry and unsullied and unsuspecting innocence. Oh, child, child, if you did but know your own power. Oh, Gipsy, if you only grow up as good as you are fair. Oh, that you might grow up good.

Saturday, 9 July

It is a pretty lane this Bird’s Nest lane, very shady and quiet, narrow and overbowered here and there with arching wyches and hazels. Sometimes my darling child Gipsy comes down to school this way, but more often she comes down Sunny Bank when the days are fine, and then over the stile by little Wern y Pentre. Yet often and often must those tiny feet have trodden this stony narrow green-arched lane, and those sweet blue eyes have looked down this vista to the blue mountains and those little hands have gathered flowers along these banks. O my child if you did but know. If you only knew that this lane and this dingle and these fields are sweet to me and holy ground for your sweet sake. But you can never know, and if you should ever guess or read the secret, it will be but a dim misty suspicion of the truth. Ah Gipsy.

Thursday, 15 September 1870

Hay Fair. […] We were busy all day dressing the Church or preparing decorations […] At the school the children were busy leasing out corn from a loose heap on the floor, sitting among the straw and tying up wheat, barley and oats in small sheaves and bundles. Gipsy Lizzie was amongst them, up to her beautiful eyes in corn and straw […]

Friday, 28 July 1871

Gipsy Lizzie was at the School. Again I am under the influence of that child’s extraordinary beauty. When she is reading and her eyes are bent down upon her book her loveliness is indescribable.

By 1872 Kilvert is preparing to leave the parish of Clyro to act as curate to his father at Langley Burrell. His parishioners are clearly distraught at his leaving:

Thursday, 11 july 1872

‘There is great mourning for you at Pen y cae,’ said Mrs. Harris [Gipsy Lizzie’s mother – LSM]. ‘Why, do the children really care so much?’ ‘Ay, that day they gave you the pencil case the girl was crying and dazed all the evening. We could do nothing at all with her, and the boy is worse than her. “There’ll be no one to come and teach us now,” he says, “Mr Kilvert do come and tell us about all parts.” ‘ I showed her the beautiful pencil case. But oh, Gipsy Lizzie dear, my own love, it doesn’t make up to me for losing you.


May Eve, Saturday

This evening being May Eve I ought to have put some birch and wittan (mountain ash) over the door to keep out the ‘old witch’. But I was too lazy to go out and get it. Let us hope the old witch will not come in during the night. The young witches are welcome.

Tuesday, 3 May

By Tyn-y-cwm Meadows to Newchurch village and in turning, in at the old Vicarage garden door I heard the hum of the little school. The door under the latticed porch was open and as I went in a pretty dark girl was coming out of an inner door, but seeing me she retreated hastily and I heard an excited buzzing of voices within the schoolroom and eager whispers among the children: ‘Here’s Mr. Kilvert – It’s Mr. Kilvert,’ Not finding the good parson in his study I went into the schoolroom and fluttered the dove cot not a little. The curate and his eldest daughter were away and pretty Emmeline in a russet brown stuff dress and her long fair curls was keeping school bravely with an austere look in her severe beautiful face, and hearing little Polly Greenway read. Janet and Matilda dressed just alike in black silk skirts, scarlet bodices and white pinafores, and with blue ribbons in their glossy bonny dark brown curls, were sitting on a form at a long desk with the other children working at sums. Janet was doing simple division and said she had done five sums, whereupon I kissed her and she was nothing loth. Moreover I offered to give her a kiss for every sum, at which she laughed. As I stood by the window making notes of things in general in my pocket book Janet kept on interrupting her work to glance round at me shyly but saucily with her mischievous beautiful grey eyes. Shall I confess that I travelled ten miles today over the hills for a kiss, to kiss that child’s sweet face. Ten miles for a kiss.


Saturday, 15 April

[…] Being tub night Polly with great celerity and satisfaction stripped herself naked to her drawers before me and was very anxious to take off her drawers too for my benefit, but her grandmother would not allow her. As it happened the drawers in question were so inadequately constructed that it made uncommonly little difference whether they were off or on, and there was a most interesting view from the rear. Then her grandmother washed her head with soft soap and hot water in a tub, the little image kneeling down in her drawers on the cold stone floor with her head in the tub close to the open door into the road.

The following entry is notable not only for Kilvert’s delight in the loving exchanges with little Carrie, but also the easy-going and tolerant attitude of the child’s mother to their interaction. The quotation this passage starts with are the last words of James V of Scotland.

Wednesday, 23 August

‘It began with a lass and it will end with a lass’

In the evening before sunset while the sun was yet warm and bright I went across the golden common and meadow to the Three Firs to call on Hannah Britton. I had not been long in the house when Hannah’s beautiful seven year old child Carrie gradually stole up to me and nestled close in my arms. Then she laid her warm temples and soft round cheek lovingly to mine and stole first one arm then the other round my neck. Her arms tightened round my neck and she pressed her face closer and closer to mine, kissing me again and again. Then came the old, old story, the sweet confession as old as human hearts, ‘I do love you so. Do you love me?’ ‘Yes,’ said the child, lovingly clinging still closer with fresh caresses and endearments. ‘You little bundle,’ said her mother laughing and much amused. ‘I wish I could take you with me.’ ‘You would soon grow tired of her,’ said her mother. ‘No’, said the child with the perfect trust and confidence of love, ‘he said he wouldn’t.’ An hour flew like a few seconds. I was in heaven. A lodger came in and sat down, but I was lost to everything but love and the embrace and the sweet kisses and caresses of the child. It seemed as if we could not part we loved each other so. At last it grew dusk and with one long loving clasp and kiss I reluctantly rose to go. It was hard to leave the child. When I went away she brought me the best flower she could find in the garden. I am exhausted with emotion.

Friday, 13 October

Up the long Green Lane the heather bloom was long over and the heather was dark, speckled with the little round white bells. I looked for Abiasula along the green ride narrowing between the fern and heather, and looked for her again at the Fforest, but the great dark heather slopes were lonely, nothing was moving, the cottage was silent and deserted, the dark beautiful face, the wild black hair and beautiful wild eyes of the mountain child were nowhere to be seen.

Two ‘Romps’

Saturday, 25 November 1871

[…]A screaming romp with Lucretia who in rolling about upon the bed upset the candle on to the coverlet and burst into peals of inextinguishable laughter while a strong smell of burning rose from the singed woollens and I snatched up the candle in a way which redoubled Lucretia’s mirth.

Tuesday, 16 January 1872

Lucretia and I had a splendid romp.

‘Lucretia’ was probably in her teens since earlier in the diaries Kilvert mentions visiting her at her boarding school in Bristol. As to exactly what Kilvert meant by the word ‘romp’ one can only speculate, but the brevity of the entry suggests that he wanted the entry to remind him of something without him having to go into any detail about what that ‘something’ was.


Kilvert is preparing to leave his beloved parish of Clyro. We see again (see entry above in Gipsy Lizzie section) how much love there was between himself and the children of that parish.

Tuesday , 9 July

To-day I have been much moved. Just after we had finished lessons at the school at noon, the children deputed little Amy Evans the schoolmaster’s daughter (of whom they know I am very fond) to present to me a little box in which I found a beautiful gold pencil case to hang at my watch chain. My own precious lambs. They had of their own will saved up their money to give me this costly and beautiful present. They would not go to the fair and spend the money upon themselves. It was all to be ‘for Mr. Kilvert’. I tried to speak to tell them what I felt, but my heart was full.

‘Please not to forget us,’ said the children. Dear children, there is no danger. I did not want this to help to keep you in mind.


Saturday, 15 March

At the new Chapel Farm I found Wall and his wife at home and little Nellie lay lovingly in my arms.

I ran down to Cabalva and called at Whitcombe’s at the Bronith. Saw Mrs. Watkeys and kissed her two beautiful grandchildren as the girls sat together by the fire.

Found Mrs. Potts the keeper’s wife among the tubs surrounded by naked girls and boys whom she was washing and putting to bed.


Monday, 16 February

Greatly troubled by the licentiousness of the school children, especially Harriet Ferris, Mary Grimshaw and Lucy Halliday.

Ashbrook house, home of Kilvert 1865-1872
Ashbrook house, home of Kilvert 1865-1872

to be continued…

13 thoughts on “Love in the Welsh Marches: Francis Kilvert & His Diaries

  1. In 20th Century Europe, at least two more so called ‘Belle Epoques/Golden Ages’ since UK Vile Victorian KindPeds/UnKindpeds could BUY a beggar child’s charms like calves at auction.

    Both epochs post-WW1/June 1919, Vile Versailles Treaty.

    1) 1920s Weimar Deutschland crippled by vile Anglo-French reparations from which it could never recover. Causing hyperinflation with HUGE baskets of worthless notes buying petty purse-sized provisions, and a beggar child’s charms BOUGHT for a penance by KindPeds, and some UNKindpeds. 1st drama-documented in Fritz Lang’s famed flick “M”, 1931 (and Lang’s post-WW2 weak U.S. remake “M”, 1952.)

    2) 1920s rising pro social/Labourite UK with the flower of Brit young-manhood millions crippled or culled in Flanders Fields, Leaving Free Range Brit Lolis/Laddies & Wimmin seeking solace & romance with lucky Brit young teen males & non-combatant men. Stayed at homes, including numerous KindPeds, plus inevitable few UnKindPeds. Luckily much documented to late-SeXy 70s SeXentric by late-HyperKindPed Scouser T.W. 1916-c.2004 – R angefree In P erpetuity.

    Tiny tasters, paraphrased, “I’m sad for U post-WW2 younger paedos now under increased media pressure by so called ‘Child Safety’ awareness with once ‘Free Range’ kids now whisked round in family cars playing Pop audio cassette distractions, or corralled into over structured formal Venture Playgrounds (doubtless staffed by many closet paedos). By my early-teens in late-1920s Liddypool (self-confident) I, and my (self-doubting) brother both knew that little-girls were the World’s finest creations and our greatest desire. E.G. 1920s brash street kids didn’t run FROM strangers’ still rare cars, but flocked TO cars a rare treat including strangers’ cars, pleading, ‘Take us for a ride mister?!’ And, in Stanley Park twixt Goodison & Anfield, Crimean War olde soldiers and stagers muttered to late-teens me always freely playing with leggy lil luvlies, ‘That’s the stuff lad – Little Girls every time!!’ An early-1930s angry fishwife once knocked on my family’s front door and demanded of my Mum, ‘Where’s your teenage son who’s always playing with little girls?! He’s UPSET my little girl and I want to talk to him!’ I was called downstairs by my Ma, and told by the fishwife, ‘My little girl says U play with her friends but leave her alone and crying.’

    ‘Not ME Missus. I never leave ’em alone to cry. She’s welcum anytime to play with me and her friends who are right now UP in my room wiv my brother.’

    ‘Right! Then I’ll send her round right now, and U make sure she’s happy when she cums home for tea!’

    Until the retard Right anti social 19Hateys, the general/stereotypical/mass view of stranger adults playing with willing kids was, paraphrased, “Oh, he’s a KIND man. U can see the children LIKE playing with him. They always wait for him to cum out to the street or park.”

    (Writer/re-righter of wrongs, SeXentric writs this, and havin’ writ, moves write-on. SURROUNDED by friendly Mums wi’ lunchtime lil Lolis leggily froLICKing or LICKing on luscious Ices & Lolllies. Well SOMEONE has to do it, to it?).


  2. A Belle Epoque of Anglo Victorian Gentleman (& Wimmin) KindPeds,

    Though some would still BUY a beggar child’s charms for a pretty penny when well known to most KindPeds kindness itself buys more than money can ever elicit in illicit affairs. Once more, when young, SeXentric luckily learned from older KindPeds that loving Lolis care less about age than about kindness (and cleanliness).

    Recalling a KindPed pal 60+ (now deceased) courting an ex-Model Girl Mum with 2 x blonde leggy Lolis, 8 & 9, visiting his rural idyll for a fun weekend witnessed by co-visitor SeXentric. On arrival both grinning miniskirted Lolis close hugged the KindPed PENSIONER then suddenly pushed back by the HOTTEST Loli onto his plush recliner armchair fully reclined with laughing Loli face-down flat ontop. While her pert white-pants pink butt jiggled & humped as she turned to smile through tousled locks at severely aMused SeXentric as Mum teasingly quipped, “They love visiting their OLD Uncle!” (Here’s a new kool kids TeeHee Shirt slogan to make a million, “Consent Matters – Age Doesn’t”)

    This 1943 born Anglo-Yorky Jew made atheist ain’t anti-Anglo. Just anti-retard Right wing elite-AngloVILE Assholes! Causing most ever motha lovin lowdown cotton panty pickin post-Reformation Fuck UPS of Humanity in 4 centuries. Since their perversely revered role model misogynist serial psycho killer Henry SPLIT from Rome. Echoed in today’s retard Right wing Fuck UP SPLIT – BREXIT!

    And along the ways they also spoiled the aforementioned Victorian KindPed Belle Epoque still echoing in today’s modern mock Puritan Anglo War On KinderEros? The original spoiled, as ever, by a few retard Right wing Rich & Powerful UNkindPeds. A Victorian London elite of UPstanding ‘Roast Beef Of England – John Bulls’ Anglo-elite family men. BIG hypocrites with BIG LUSTS for virgin Lolis BOUGHT like cattle/calves (matched in Malle’s same era BIG Easy sick-flick ‘Pretty Baby’). AND, as ever SeXposed (hypocritically for careers/ratings/profit crudely masked by Mass Deception as so called ‘Public Protection’ ) by a Right wing press baron W.T. Stead (today’s retard Right wing Rupe’s role model) also with self-declared HUGE SeXual LUST – assumed legal?

    Paraphrased from the Web:

    In 1885, in the wake of Josephine Butler’s fight for the repeal of the Contagious Diseases Acts, Stead entered upon a crusade against child prostitution in central London’s underclass Covent Garden close to the rich and powerful elite Westminster & Whitehall, by publishing a series of four articles entitled The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon. In order to demonstrate the truth of his revelations, he arranged the “purchase” of Eliza Armstrong, the 13-year-old daughter of a chimney sweep. His first instalment was trailed with a warning guaranteed to make the Pall Mall Gazette sell out. Copies changed hands for 20 times their original value and the office was besieged by 10,000 members of the public. The popularity of the articles was so great the Gazette’s supply of paper ran out and had to be replenished with supplies from the rival Globe. Though his action hastened the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885 panicked into irrationally raising the UK AOC from 13 to 16, Stead’s successful demonstration of the limited Child Prostitution trade to London’s rich & powerful elite hypocrites never named, led to his own conviction for abduction and a three-month term of imprisonment. He was convicted but only the technical ground that he had failed to first secure permission for the “purchase” from the girl’s father. The Maiden Tribute campaign was the high point in Stead’s career in low shallow gutter journalism soon successfully adopted by The Pall Mall Gazette’s inheritor, the still retard Right wing Daily Mail-mailicious no less Der Heil!. Continuing the alltime gutter Brit press BEST SELLING retard Right wing Sewer/’News of The World’ in retard Right wing Rupe’s grubby hands more recently deceased – Rot In Perpetuity! Stead’s series inspired George Bernard Shaw to write Pygmalion, and to name his lead character Eliza. Another of the characters described, the “Minotaur of London”, is reckoned to have inspired Jekyll and Hyde.

    As ever re-quote great Victorian Gay Brit visionary, VICTIM Oscar Wilde, 1891 (brackets mine), “We are dominated by (Right wing) journalism.”


  3. Being a childlover or paedophile today ain’t easy at all, and sometimes I wish I could stop existing in the here-and-now, and be reincarnated, let’s say a hundred years hence.
    However, after reading these delightful excerpts from Kilvert’s diaries (and incidentally Sexentric’s note, equally as delightful, but more titillating) I feel the desire to go back in time to Victorian England.

    To my amazement, Mr. Well’s Time machine just materialised in my living room, so bye for now!


    1. Oh, to have a time machine – Wouldn’t it be fascinating to go back to the times of Kilvert, Dodgson/Carroll, Ruskin etc and to spend a few months there immersed in their culture and their mind-set. What questions we could answer! what mysteries we could resolve! what wisdom we could bring back with us!

      As so often History records badly, if at all, the things that the future most wants and needs to know about the past. Our near ancestors, the Victorians seem to have had such different attitudes towards children, their sexuality, and what today we call ‘paedophilia’ – but never really addressed these directly. We’re left with tantalising clues, glimpses, reported incompletely and partially, from which we have to try to surmise whatever we can.

      It’s one of my fantasies to have been a wealthy, educated Victorian man, but knowing what I know now. Knowing what I know now would have made me a radical pioneer in my field of study and I’d have grown a big fluffy beard, worn a cape, had an ivory-tipped walking stick and affected a limp, and patted the heads of gamine and spracker street urchins, as they whispered to each other “tha’s the world famous scientist/artist/writer Leonard Sisyphus Mann – oi! gimme a farthin ‘n’ll show you mi bloomers mistah – gimme a shillin and I’ll… (and there, like all the best dreams, my reverie pops and vanishes like an iridescent wobbling sphere a child blows from her soapy bubble toy…)


  4. ‘… But even keeping this in mind, we must not lose sight of the fact that there are those men and women for whom eroticism with children has a very special significance or importance. There are many intermediate positions between being poor and rich but this doesn’t keep us from designating a certain group of people as wealthy. Thus we can define as child-lovers (paedophiles) those people in whom the (universal) attraction to children is more pronounced than in the majority of their fellow beings: it is so clearly pronounced, in fact, that it takes on the greatest importance, dominates, colours and gives direction to the sexual side of their lives. Jacques de Brethmas: “If someone would speak about me without mentioning my boy-love he wouldn’t give a complete picture; it would remain the picture of someone else. To a very large degree, all my emotions, feelings, all my preoccupations, my whole life is directed to, consecrated to, staked out on what lies closest to my heart: boys.” ‘ Loving Boys; Edward Brongersma (1986).

    ‘Die Knabenliebe sei so alt wie die Menschheit, und man könne daher sagen, sie liege in der Natur, ob sie gleich gegen die Natur sei. Was die Kultur der Natur abgewonnen habe, werde man nicht wieder fahren lassen; es um keinen Preis aufgeben.’ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

    I just love to read about these artistically-gifted high-profile minor-attracted individuals from so long ago such as Kilvert, von Gloeden, Wilde, Ruskin, Gide, Barrie, Dodgson, Goethe, etc. It just re-enforces the instinct that I have always had, but been forced to keep locked in the closet for fear of being shamed: minor-attraction is just another strand of human sexuality and utterly valid.

    BJM: ‘If a man behaved in this way with children in these days, it most likely would be taken to be “paedophilia”, child molestation, and so on. But surely this is based on an *ideal* which denies the basic erotic pleasures of the body (many of which are not “sexual”) to children, and denies the sharing of this between adults and children?’ It seems that the feminists have achieved their objective to exclude men from any dealings with children as a first step to rendering men irrelevant in this world. With nearly two million lone parents in the UK and 90% of these single mothers, society appears to be reaping what it sows, with the greatest collateral damage impacting kids. And if these UK kids try to find a male role model at school, then they will be awfully disappointed: just one in seven of those that teach are male, and one in four primary schools employ no men at all.



    1. Perhaps of interest to Feinmanno et al?

      The still, and always, vaguely defined “Paedophilia”, by Y2K growing fast in an easily spooked Anglo public mind was earnestly commented upon by a senior UK so called ‘authority, NSPCC or similar career scare dealer, paraphrased, “What we DO know now is that Paedophilia is deep rooted and widespread in our society, and in humanity.”

      BIG fuckin’ deal.

      All good for the all Anglo retard Right/wrong uns BIG SCARE BIZ – wot?!

      While increasing MILLIONS of SeX-keen Selfie SeXting laughing kids including proactive ADULTOPHILES & randy rompers beyond all control, mercilessly mock so called SeX Laws. A recent legal pic online had a c.10 y.o blonde Loli winking while ‘tongue poking’ a la BIG SeXy Twerker Miley, and wearing a TeeHee shirt with brazen slogan, “I LUV C.P.” (Unlikely meaning Corporal Punishment OR Chrissie Prezzies)

      Forget past Loli’s fave Orange (Jason who?).

      The Future’s Bright – The Future’s ADULTOPHILE!


    2. I have to agree with your comments on feminism and its varied outcomes. But I also have to point out that there are feminists who don’t follow this agenda, but who are rarely talked about because they don’t shout, and when they do speak, much of what they have to say is not “scream scream look at me the poor victim”.


  5. Those with even half a sweet thought on Kilvert-esque romps past, present and future.

    Can doubtless recall time-honoured covert, overt, pervert, (Kilvert?) physical and sub-sexual rough & tumbles with child peers, parents, relatives and other adults. Later ongoing as adults with only too willing kids Olde Style Free Range, parkside, back street, and now as ever and always in-house Full Range still UNSTOPPABLE.

    On grassy knolls, in leafy holes, living room sofas BIG armchairs and carpets, in-car pets, dry humped cats, brawls on-beds become giggling and hysterical tickling between breaths and mischievously between legs become flushed face heavy breathing, hard dry & wet humping making grimaced grins.

    From vastly SeXperienced SeXentric’s BIG memory stick, unstuck CUMS a real ironic romping lil gem.

    A SeXy 70s family friend’s lil 5 y.o. fun Loli BOASTED to her Ma that she LURVED their friendly unreal ‘Uncle’ cos he always fun tickled her ‘Piggy’/clit when romping with her. WOT?!! SHOCKED Ma real fast called da cops (soon much regretted) and tho the aMusing ‘Uncle’ natchrally denied aBuse and was uncharged, lil Loli was then TRULY aBused-not-aMused by the AngloVILE inhuman meat-mincer. Where she brightly told the anti social services/ASS bent Anglo psycho that their felt doll was ‘anatomically’ INCORRECT wiv it’s pussy half way UP it’s belly – DOH! (Proud Ma later recalled, “She took the piss outta their fucked up doll!”) Loli made sad was then sent for fun self-defence lessons (SeXentric recommends for ALL kids) and here’s the fine irony. Just months later Ma and Loli ad hoc visited SeXentric’s happy home where bright Loli asked to see SeXentric’s latest DIY/Hovel Improvement in his loft bedroom where Loli then asked if SeXentric had any fun trinkets which all his friendly kids LURVED to rummage for, and Loli soon found a cute bracelet in SeXentric’s (NON underwear) drawers which she couldn’t properly fix. Soo she TOLD SeXentric to clip it on for her and when SeXentric kindly said, “OK, but say ‘pretty please and give SeXentric a nice hug” ASS/AntiSocialServices mind-RAPED Loli yelled “NO!!” While knee-jerk Kung Fu kicking at SeXentric’s essentials. (SeXy 70s skoolyard quip, ‘Wot Kunt frew dat?!”) But THEN while calm kind SeXentric sat on the bed fixing the bracelet to Loli’s limp wrist she proactively climbed up, straddled SeXentric and began hard dry humping while grimacing at the rear wall, “THAT was SEXY wasn’t it?!” blurted HOT Loli. “Just a silly game..” replied mock shocked SeXentric, “C’mon let’s go down and have tea with Mummy.”

    ForthCUMMIN’ Brit com BIG flick from a fine long tradition, “Carry On Romping”? .


    1. >”I don’t know why this post does not appear in my WP Reader.”

      My experience of WP Reader is that it’s not totally reliable – there are blogs I follow that never come up, no matter how much I tweak and fiddle with the settings…

      >”You have “Fforest” on 13 October 1871.”

      Yes, I know – that’s what’s in the printed edition. ‘Fforest’ seems to be correct spelling in Welsh or Anglo-Welsh for – I presume – ‘forest’.


  6. I recently have been reminded, via a thoroughly academic paper on Bataille, Lacan, and Nietzsche, that morality, as we pursue it in WEIRD Western culture, is a morality of ideals, an imaginarium of prescriptive ideas which takes us away from our basic animal nature. What we do, as human animals, is not, so it is said, an affirmation of the moral acceptability of our actions. In many ways what this means is that, even if our actions cause no harm (e.g., consensual sex with a person of the same gender, as used to be illegal and immoral nearly everywhere in the West, or consensual sex with a person one day shy of the legal age of sexual consent), it is held to be immoral and/or illegal on the basis of an ideal which takes no account of the human urge to touch others, to enjoy touching and being touched, and even to know who we want to touch and be touched by.

    Another thought which is worth remembering is that a large amount of human sexual activity takes the form of play, even in respect of adult to adult sex (or does so until the adult calcifies mentally and emotionally so that the said adult becomes so thoroughly boring that a sexual partner is not likely to want to be in congress with them.)

    Apart from one, these Kilvert quotes are fascinating because of the sense of play he expresses, because of the sense of an erotic pleasure that may or may not be sexual in a contemporary sense. What I mean is that his pleasure may have been simple playfulness, or it may have been sexually arousing. But the question always will be whether or not there was harm (a moral notion which has been expanded so far that merely looking at someone is taken to be a threat and potentially immoral)?

    Interestingly, what he seems to be expressing are the same feelings expressed by many here and on TOC’s blog. Just as interesting (to me) is that what he seems to be expressing are very much the feelings I have towards adult women, especially his descriptions of how the beauty of the children affect him. (The last time I experienced that was with a 30 year old Korean woman, who modelled for me and with whom I produced some of my best work—well, I think it was some of my best work!)

    Anyway, to return to the point…

    If a man behaved in this way with children in these days, it most likely would be taken to be “paedophilia”, child molestation, and so on. But surely this is based on an *ideal* which denies the basic erotic pleasures of the body (many of which are not “sexual”) to children, and denies the sharing of this between adults and children?

    I leave the question hanging and await part two.


    1. Thanks for your comment BJ.

      >”a thoroughly academic paper on Bataille, Lacan, and Nietzsche”

      Just reading those three names are enough to leave me intellectually intimidated and cowed!

      >”that morality, as we pursue it in WEIRD Western culture is a morality of ideals, an imaginarium of prescriptive ideas which takes us away from our basic animal nature”

      It might be a naive question (or I may be donning my Devil’s advocate mask) – but isn’t all morality, whether WEIRD & Western or not, about ideals and about the control or urges, desires and drives? in other words ‘our basic animal nature’? Could it be that what your comment highlights is the difference between social ‘morals’ (which, in order to be applicable to whole populations without being over-complex, are inevitably going to be a blunt tool) and ‘ethics’ – which can deal with individual situations and cases and peculiarties?

      Would I be right in saying Morals seek to simplify, whilst ethics complexify (as Dubya might put it)?

      However I suspect that the blunt tool of shared morals is essential to a society’s functioning – it’s useful to have basic moral stances agains stealing, murder, dishonesty – though there are many situations where stealing, murder and dishonesty might be the correct course of action when considered ethically.

      >”Another thought which is worth remembering is that a large amount of human sexual activity takes the form of play,”

      Yes, and I think a good child-adult relationship should be one that is very much a playful one – an aspect of ‘paedophile’ culture that bothers me is the extent to which it reproduces adult/adult ideas of how to interact intimately with children – serious, intense, exclusive, commitment-based – I think an ideal relationship between an adult and a child would have as its basis the idea that sexuality and sensuality are things we play at – indeed, as you say, an ideal adult-adult sexual relationship should be equally playful.


      1. Yes, you are perfectly correct about the nature of morality/ethics, but I like to have it both ways:

        On the one hand, everything we do is moral/ethical in one way or another.

        On the other hand morals/ethics/statutory law all are inventions based, I believe, on the desire to control the minutiae of other people’s lives.

        I’m not going to argue for either of these propositions here.

        What we have in contemporary Western culture, however, and which is reflected n the majority of Western societies, is the urge to have absolute certainty where such a thing is not possible, and the creation of “rules” which are presented as absolutely certain moral/ethical principles. Something else I won’t argue for here is the assertion that the majority of human living goes on across the world without reference to particular moral rules or ethical principles. (Ian Hinckfuss published a small book on this at one stage, through ANU, if I remember correctly, although I only have a draft copy—first wife snitched the final published version unfortunately. It was about the pointlessness of morality when it is not actively used in everyday situations where other means,which he explored, are used to resolve “moral” problems.)

        In any event…

        I think a good adult-adult relationship is playful also; in fact, I think a good human-human relationship, with or without sex, is playful. Otherwise it is just DULL! (Which my explain why I am not at wife number three. lol)


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