Under The Cloak, Or, Some Rollicking Old Bull

'Alchemy, black magic, top hat and a white rabbit. Oh, and some smoke, just for effect. I'm now
5 X 4 lecturer-elect.'

'Really?'

'Yes, the birdie whispered in my ear. It's that time of year; was loath to hear my schedule for the Autumn semester. Do the brains of our leaders whither and fester?  The decisions that they've made . . . let me call a spade a spade. We're no longer subject specialists, we're just Jacks-of-all-Trade.'

'But . . .'

'Indeed! I believed that I was qualified and employed to teach the theory, but it seems I'm now obliged to demonstrate large-format photography. I suggested to my manager that this felt like an affront; turns the order of things upside-down and also back-to-front. I opined it was short-sighted but it didn't take her long to explain my vision lacked clear sight, because my aperture was wrong.'

'Please come out from under the dark-cloth.'

'So, she took me to the darkroom; the visionary leading the blind. I thought I could smell chemicals, but was damned if I could find the light switch to the cubicle where a print lay in a tray. I was feeling claustrophobic, and had turned a shade of grey. I started to explain that I lacked the constitution for working in the dark when (in my myopic confusion) it dawned on me that this might be a form of prostitution. The lurid glow from the safety light did nought for my complexion.'

'You need a north-facing studio at your age.'

'But, my cries - they went unheeded.  For, the seed is 'ready seeded. Photo-history, it's not needed, but I have to have a use. So they're tightening the noose. I can play their game, and all is fine. Or, dig my heels in and bide my time.'

'Hang on.'

'I will. But for now and, please, forgive me if I'm sounding like a bore, but can anybody tell me what this dark-slide might be for?'

Images from (ed) Jay, B (1994) Some Rollicking Bull: Light Verse, and Worse, on Victorian Photography, Germany: Nazraeli Press