The EsseX Files
Introduction
There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Hamlet, Act One, Scene Five – William Shakespeare.
The Cosmos is not silent or sane. It whispers; it dreams; it communes with all aspects of our psyches in a daily interlocution of magic that never ceases.
Memories, Dreams, Reflections - Carl Jung
People are people, so why should it be, you and I should get along so aw-full-y?
‘People are people’ off ‘Construction Time Again’ - Depeche Mode
The universe is undoubtedly a stranger and more bewildering post than we have been led to believe. Many of us are familiar with tales of bizarre phenomena from far-off times and places – mysterious happenings such as the disappearance of the Dutch clipper the Margot Leadbetter, - which vanished unaccountably, leaving its crew bobbing in the sea still eating their breakfasts.
These stories may seem acceptable to us because of their distance, both geographical and temporal. But what of unexplained events closer to home? Somehow they seem less likely. The world each of us wakes to every day is, after all, and ordinary place.
What unsolved mysteries can possibly lurk in a country such as ours, with its Kwik Saves, its Little Chefs and pun quizzes? You would be surprised, for I am now able to reveal that our own country, the United Kingdom, contains the locus of all that is most mysterious on Planet Earth.
Incredible as it may seem, this region of mystery is contained within eastern England in the deceptively benign shape of the county of Essex.
I, the author, would never have stumbled upon this unexpected truth, were it not for a series of seemingly unconnected events. Somehow they served to point me in the direction of a dark and enigmatic realm which lay concealed just below the ordinary façade of our everyday world.
My investigations began innocuously enough, whilst researching the distinctly un-supernatural book No Better After All These Years – The Syd Little Story. Syd’s comedy partner, Eddie Large, began talking of his time spent touring the working-men’s clubs of Essex.
“It was incredible” said Eddie. “Everywhere I went; people told me peculiar stories, tales of spectral apparitions, people with mysterious powers and strange objects seen in the sky. I wanted to write a book about it myself, but was fully occupied writing a new routine involving Deputy Dawg, Cliff Richard and Jimmy Saville starting their cars in the morning.”
I too shared Eddie’s love of the curious and unusual, and since I was travelling south the next weekend, I decided to visit some of the sites he had mentioned, if for nothing more than my own amusement.
I may have thought no more of Eddie’s unusual testimony had it not been for an inexplicable encounter of my own whilst driving to London on the A127. Returning from a visit to one of the sites the Noel’s House Party regular had mentioned, I noticed I was being followed by a black Ford Mondeo.
It drew closer and closer to my rear, attempting to dazzle me with its customised lanterns and trying to drive me off the road. It followed me for almost thirty miles, and eventually left as I crossed the county border. It would appear someone didn’t want me in Essex.
As I began my own investigations in earnest, more startling information came to light. Study of aerial photographs of the county at first seemed to reveal nothing more than the shape of a puddle of vomit. However, refusing to believe this, I looked harder. It was now clear that I was seeing the profile of assassinated US president John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Or that of TV presenter Carol Smillie.
If the former were the case, the implications were potentially devastating. Could I throw new light onto the mystery of Kennedy’s assassination and its attendant conspiracy theories? Could the pattern of strange phenomena which were beginning to emerge from the landscape of the county have some incredible connection with the Dallas shooting?
Were extraterrestrials at work? What was the enigma of the Harlow Nightie? What really happened in the Wivenhoe Triangle? And what terrifying secrets were contained within the lyrics of Basildon-born band Depeche Mode?
By examining each of the stories in more detail, I was sure I would be able to discover an underlying network which connected them all. It would be a dangerous venture, taking me deep into the heart of Britain’s strangest county.
At times, what you read in The EsseX Files may seem incredible to believe, but that is for you to decide. One thing I can assure you – the county of Essex is an even stranger place than you can imagine. An unparalleled vortex of the weird, a zone of the unusual, and a damn sight more interesting than Syd Little.
This post was brought to you by Spoonman. You are entitled to his opinion.
