Jack Sanger – Jack Sanger

The Hidden Persuaders

Working in a convent home for the care of emotionally disturbed adolescent girls can throw up insights into the hidden worlds of communication. Telepathy, empathy, subliminal advertising. I remember Vance Packard wrote a book in the late 1950s, called The Hidden Persuaders. That was sometimes what it felt like as an atheist working with committed… Know More
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The Bearable Lightness of Dying

The last blog presented a sliver of the existence I knew as Sister Daphne. I have always – well, since a teenager – been preoccupied by the fundamental question of what is this thing called life? And as a corollary, what is this other thing called death? In fact, going back to the college days… Know More
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On Exorcisms

You’ll find references to an exorcism I attended if you check the blogs for December 2012. Writing about Sister Daphne in the last foray into my biography reminded me of another one. (Memory is like thousands of bags full of substance but which are tied at the neck to each other so that you have… Know More
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Sister Daphne’s Dilemmas

When we first met I was in my fifth year of teaching. It was the time of liberal studies in colleges of further education. The naming of courses is always political. Liberal Studies became General Studies and then Communication Studies as the cultural imperative to give apprentices and those returning to education after failing at… Know More
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Ch ch ch ch ch ch changes

David Bowie’s song came to mind as I started writing this blog. I was reflecting on the mysteries surrounding what we call fate. Fate is often a rationalizing of events that have occurred and which seem to have conspired some change in one’s life. A trauma, a chance meeting with someone who becomes one’s partner,… Know More
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Hail Stones In the Pyrenees

Thought I’d digress from the current flow and describe an event, yesterday. Imagine the scene: sunshine, reading Montaigne on the recliner, rearing cliffs behind me with crows and woodpeckers creating a drum rhythm. A blackbird chortling solos above my head on the pear tree. All hot and humid and very south of France. Ten minutes… Know More
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Dream Lover Where Are You

Hearing accounts of other people’s dreams is about as tasty as eating cheap mozzarella. They may intrigue, exhilarate, perturb or cause great distress to those who experience them but today’s listener generally remains turned off by the telling – unless s/he is some kind of eager interpreter. Those who, like myself, find them uncannily redolent… Know More
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Zen and the Art of Psychic Maintenance

We had moved to a village called Ryton, close to the Tyne. I was about twelve. Naturally I joined the public library. In the earlier village of my childhood I was taking out adult books. By twelve I had read the vast bulk of the better American crime noir by Chandler, Cheyney, Wallace et all… Know More
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Life’s Mysteries

I said I’d write a sequence of blogs on the mysteries that attend my life. I am assuming that I am not unique in being subjected to uncanny forces beyond my powers of reason. I expect most people, if they spent a bit of time in personal reflection, would dredge up the inexplicable in their… Know More
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Daydream Believer

I’ve had a number of readers kind enough to complement the direction of these blogs. Well, that is not quite exact. There have been more compliments as the blogs begin to entertain the mysterious and the uncanny. Read the last few and you will see what I mean. The place of strange events in our… Know More
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