Another Movie Replica: The Black Knight, 1954

photos are stills from this clip posted on TCM

We were going to do one post listing all the movies we know of so far that contain Stonehenge in some form. We’d already posted the movies This Is Spinal Tap and The Colour of Magic, and we thought we could round up the ones that were left in one quick post. Then we watched this video again. Lolz!!!1! It deserves a post of its own!

A synopsis of this section of the movie (from a full synopsis on this page) reads: “John, as the Black Knight, rides off to summon Arthur’s knights, as Linet, the abbot and the remaining monks are taken by the Vikings to the mysterious rocks of Stonehenge, where they are readied as sacrifice. Arthur, John and the knights arrive in time to rescue Linet and the clergymen and destroy Stonehenge.” But, trust us, this does not capture the madness of the wildly dancing girls, the heavily made-up so-called virgin about to be sacrificed, and the wild priests or druids presiding over it, let alone the dramatic rescue of said virgin and the about-to be roasted monks. Don’t you just hate those evil pagans?!

Then, of course, there’s the pulling down of the stones at the end of the sequence. They come down quite easily,  pulled by knights on horses.  Think how that would have impacted on Britain’s tourist trade! Reminds us of National Lampoon’s European Vacation in which Chevy Chase backs into one trilithon and the whole thing goes down like dominoes. D***ed Americans!!

Score for this replica: 7½ druids. We think they did a fine job of mocking up what Stonehenge might have looked like long ago, considering it was 1954. As a matter of fact, we think they may have used the Maryhill replica (see here for our post on that one) for this aerial shot and just mocked up the parts they needed for the close-ups. Still, nicely done.

Our thanks to Bob Bradlee aka StonehengeGuy for steering us to this classic Stonehenge depiction. It is good to laugh!

Take Your Better-Looking Avatar to Stonehenge Second Life

Built in Second Life by Ewan Haggarty, sent to us by Pete Glastonbury

We don’t know much about Second Life. We haven’t figured out how to do something worthwhile with our first life, and we’re pretty sure spending more time on line than we already do isn’t the answer. But of course most people have their act together much better than we do, so for them having a second, virtual, life is an option. It’s probably a relief to enter a place away from routines and mundane concerns.

Second Life (Wikipedia explanation here) has all kinds of places to go, and people can build things there. So naturally there are Stonehenges. We mentioned a couple when we did a post on virtual Stonehenges before. As far as we know, each one is, in its context, a real Stonehenge, not a replica, although–who knows!–there may be virtual Stonehenge replicas there, too. If you know of any, do not hesitate to let us know!

Here’s a link to another, quite accurate Stonehenge made for Second Life. Here’s another Second Life Stonehenge on Flickr. We confess this is all mind boggling to us. We have this strange feeling that all these Stonehenges will have to come to blows someday like male mountain goats vying for the harem. We can see it now, all those huge stones hurling themselves at one another, trying to establish which is the real Stonehenge. When that happens, Second Lifers, get pictures!

Even with a virtual henge we can do what we do. Let’s see: bluestones? Check. Aubrey holes? Check. Sorta-kinda the ditch and bank. Half check. The stones are the wrong proportions and shapes, of course, but in the right places and anyway it’s catchy and you can dance to it. We’ll give it 7 druids. (See how we’re just ignoring the floating orb, the small pyramid and the wasp-ish thing with breasts? We’re good at what we do! Do not try this at home!)

Who builds these Stonehenges in Second Life? Astronomers? Engineers? Druids? We’d be curious to know. But we’re glad to know that people take the things that inspire and awe them with them wherever they go!

Fake Dog Poop Henge, Because This Town Has Class!

photos and henge by Kris Sebring, aka thepapierboy, with permission

Let us introduce you to our town!

Like so many of our readers, we are real people (and/or person) who actually live somewhere–having so far been unsuccessful in our attempts to move completely onto the internet (all the online apartments that accept cats seem to be full up!). In our case, that somewhere is the–ahem–quaint town of Nazareth, Pennsylvania. Yes, sadly, we do not live in Wiltshire where we could be having fun making crop circles of a summer night!

From time to time, in fact, we have done some moonlighting, writing for a blog called Weird Nazareth about the odder tales and tidbits of this corner of the whirling world. Well, as a gesture in kind, the proprietor of the Weird Nazareth blog has sent us this picture of a homemade henge, which he calls Dog Poop Henge. We must hasten to assert that we are Certain that he could not Possibly be making an Editorial Comment expressing his Opinion of the Clonehenge blog by his choice of henging materials!

Having established that point up front, let us have a look at what he, or some creature or other, has produced. My, it looks juicy! It’s just a trilithon and a turd, that is to say, bluestone, but what impresses us most is what appears to be–yes!–a ditch and bank surrounding the, uh, construction. By our conventions he gets at least an extra druid for that.

Now, faithful readers will recall that we have featured a suspiciously dog poop-like henge before, albeit those lintels and uprights resembled a rather more dried and whitish stage of the duration of excremental existence. And the claim in that case was that it was clay. Well, this gleaming example of former food is in fact not at all what it seems but turns out to have been made of paper pulp, as described in this post of the blog maker diaries, another blog extruded from the mind of the previously mentioned Señor Sebring.

Oh, yes, as long as we’re looking at photos of our Moravian Church-founded town, allow us to give you a tour. In the top picture from left to right we see a former church, then we don’t see, just behind some trees, a large manor house originally built in the 1750s for the famous or, to some, infamous Count Zinzendorf. The next visible building, the light-colored one, is called the Sisters’ House, where the unmarried women of that community lived, and then over on the right is the current Nazareth Moravian Church. In the distance between there, sighting through the trilithon, is the circle at the center of town. You might say this town contains a s**t-load of history! Or you might not.

At any rate, we need a score here. Hmmm . . . trilithons are usually 5 druids, but this one has a ditch and bank, so we award the fake poop henge 6 druids! Which somehow seems too high, but then we want to do our part to contribute to the pride the Papier Boy’s infant daughter will someday feel at this, his fine accomplishment! Thank you, sir.

P.S.: Although this may be a tacky context in which to say it, we wish a blessed Imbolc to all those who celebrate it!

Henge for a Chameleon–1946, Somewhere in a London Zoo

copyrighted photo used with © on it. Click photo to visit page.

This is brilliant! British Pathé, a digital news archive, includes a video of chameleons climbing over a small Stonehenge replica at the London Zoo, like huge bizarre creatures of a past age. Brought to our attention by the magnificent yet under-appreciated Pete Glastonbury (unfairly gifted photographer whose speciality is ancient sites), this is probably the oldest existing video of a small Stonehenge replica.

Click >here< to see the British Pathé page, Prehistoric 1946, with video. (Totally worth clicking on just to hear the stentorian 1946 announcer and the ever-so-clever attempt at a humourous ending! ) The text on the page says, “Several shots of a chameleon moving around model of Stonehenge in a London Zoo. Some good close up shots of chameleons. This animal is half brother to lizard and looks like one. Man organises chameleons with hands – probably a zoo keeper.”

The replica is just four trilithons, but there it is, a bit of Stonehenge replica history. No scoring for this. It’s too awesome, too sexy for its trilithons! Please, if you have any old photos or videos of Stonehenge replicas, we want–no–we need to see them!

[This reminds us of the Stonehenge for Lizards post. Hmmm, there's also the Stonehenge at the reptile zoo and the chocolate replica with the plastic lizards. We detect a pattern!. David Icke, where are you when we need you?! ]

Note: For those who don’t know, subscribers to our Twitter feed get links to extra henges from time to time, including our Friday foodhenges. In case you’re interested. Anyway, have a great weekend. Happy henging!

HengeClub, a Blog

the elusive fishfingerhenge or fish stick henge, photo and henge by Anne Jensen, used by permission of the HengeClub blog

If you’re interested in henges you may have run across it already–the blog of homemade henges, HengeClub. Started just this past August, it is made up of posts of photos people send in, of henges they’ve made or (and we like this because we’ve toyed with the idea many times) found henges.

They include henges made out of many pleasingly unsuitable materials, just the sort of things we approve of, including the fish fingers or fish sticks above–now we have thought for a while that those were great henging materials but we’d never found one until we saw it on HengeClub. Thank you, everyone over there!

Most of the henges on HengeClub are rudimentary, not much more than single trilithons, but the sheer number of entries and variety of materials make it worth a visit. We admit we’re a little disappointed to find we’ve never been mentioned. After all, working together perhaps we could raise world awareness of the henge phenomenon!

(Chocolatecoinhenge by Sundaeg1rl)

The existence of that blog, like the popularity of a WebUrbanist post on Stonehenge replicas (most of which WU almost certainly saw first on Clonehenge!) demonstrates that these replicas have become one of those odd little corners of our culture that people keep coming back to. We’re always glad to see more interest in the topic!

Okay, we admit to a little envy–we’ve been asking people to make henges and send them in since November 2008, and we’ve received barely more than a handful. But then our primary draw is our list of large permanent replicas. And our incredulous musings about what strange force impels people to build henges and just how many of these linteled constructions there are and have been! HengeClub is another bit of proof that something very peculiar is going on.

Curiouser and curiouser!

Icing Henge–Perhaps the Ultimate Stonehenge Cake!

photo and cake by Vanda Symon, with permission

It doesn’t often happen that a homemade henge turns up in our inbox unsolicited, although we love when it does. You can imagine how delighted we were to receive an email from summery New Zealand with this beautifully crafted cake in it.

Made by mystery author Vanda Symon for the eighth birthday of one of her sons, this cake shows a remarkable degree of realism, from the proportions of the individual stones to the  trilithon horseshoe facing the three intact lintels in a row, to the placement of the fallen stones. Very nicely done!

We asked why make a Stonehenge cake for an eight-year-old’s party, and Ms. Symon replied, “The now Eight-Year-Old has always liked things that are old, mysterious and cool – so he wanted a wonders of the world party and the birthday party cake was going to be a pyramid or Stonehenge. We’d discussed a big gingerbread pyramid, but that wasn’t “cakey” enough, so he thought Stonehenge would be great because it’s essentially round, and hey, a cake is often round. Practical boy. I’m grateful he didn’t ask for the Colosseum!”

And so are we! Score for this cake, 8 druids, one for each of the birthday boy’s years, and our highest ever for a cake!

Ms. Symon goes on to say, “The cake was a big hit with the birthday guests, and the whole thing disappeared at the party, so Hubby didn’t even get a piece! There was also one of those surreal moments where all of the little guests were happily nibbling away on icing henges, ten kids eating things that looked like big rocks. Naturally they were beautifully sugared up in time for their parents to come and collect them.”

And on her blog she adds, “Damn chuffed with it, actually.  Amazing what you can do with icing.”

True, though it wouldn’t hold up for thousands of years in the British weather. Sigh–now we’re all hungry!

Chicago Planetarium Stonehenge(s): All About the Sky

photo from  Prashanth Sriram’s photostream on Flickr

The website of  Chicago’s Adler Planetarium says, “As visitors approach the exhibition, they are greeted by a full-size replica of a familiar giant stone monolith from Stonehenge.” Do we forgive them for using the word monolith where trilithon is the correct term? We’ll think about it.

But they do have this rather nice depiction of a piece of that ancient megalithic circle we all know and love. We don’t know what it’s made of, but we’re guessing fiberglass. It  looks a little like a movie set Stonehenge.

Plenty of planetariums have some form of Stonehenge replica (remember Kuala Lumpur?), but we’ve had our eye on Chicago for a while because of the structure on the left, entitled America’s Courtyard, an outdoor stone spiral that some people refer to as Stonehenge. (Photo by Mike Boehmer) You can read more about this public sculpture here at the sculptors’ page. (Please forgive them their typos. They are Brazilian, and English is not their first language.) Here’s another page about it, and a photo of it in the snow.

We’ve always liked that sculpture and couldn’t work it in (not hengy enough!)  until we found the photo at the top. Of course, Chicago is better known for its remarkable sculpture Cloud Gate. If you visit, we recommend seeing both!

But back to the trilithon, which now seems rather mundane. We’re giving it 5½ druids. We’re glad the planetarium is helping to keep people Stonehenge conscious. It’s as if trilithons were big staples for stapling the sky to the landscape. Oh, those ancients–they worked in big cubicles!

Stonehenge (Or is that Stone Henge?) Candle Holder

photo from Zen Ideas

Remember that snow globe we posted a few days before Christmas? This appears to be its second cousin, with trilithons based on the same model, just enlarged and moved around a bit. And it comes in what appears to be an identical box.

We can’t seem to wipe away the impression that what we have here is a mommy trilithon, a toddler trilithon and a few little trilithon buds. Drink your candle wax, kiddies, and one day you’ll be big like Mum! And yet the whole thing has its charm. That grassy lip around the candle works to make it look like a secret pond surrounded by megaliths, the kind of thing you wouldn’t mind having in your garden.

This can be seen as a reductionist view of Stonehenge, a minimal version of the circle, just enough to satisfy the casual Stonehenge fan who wants to tuck a reminder of the ancient and the ages off on the desk corner. Someone’s taken the time to make the resin stones stone-ish and aged looking. (There’s something bugging us about those three front stones, however, but we can’t quite put our finger on it.)

All in all, an amusing Stonehenge-thing, if taken with a wink. Score: 5½ druids. And the name IS Stonehenge, by the way. No space in the middle and no capital H. If it had been named in the 1990’s of course, it would be StoneHenge, but for now English Heritage is sticking with the old spelling. We quite approve!

A Little Stonehenge, a Cucumber, and Eleven

photos by Somara aka snarkygurl, with permission

[Strictly speaking this is not a Stonehenge replica, but a replica of a Stonehenge replica. The rare clonehenge clone!]

What a movie! What a cake! The movie This Is Spinäl Tap made the Stonehenge replica a household idea. We’ve often wondered what percentage of the 250 and counting posts we’ve put up would be here if it weren’t for Spinal Tap. Well, there is no doubt about today’s entry!

The baker/artist and photographer writes: “A friend of ours wanted to surprise her husband with a Spinal Tap cake for his birthday. She didn’t care what it looked like, so I had free reign to do what I wanted. I like it, other than the part where I accidentally made the strap too long, and where I lost the wrestling match with the white frosting.”

Well, we think she did an excellent job. Even got that cucumber-wrapped-in-tinfoil in there although much reduced in size!

And, speaking of reduced in size, our focus is, of course, the little Stonehenge replica, a trilithon, actually. We like the way the colouring on it is marbled to make it look like stone. It is very nicely done. Plus, it looks delicious. We hope it was.

Please note that the dials on the amp do say 11. That’s one higher! By the way, you can see our other posts concerning Spinal Tap here and here.

Score: 5 druids. It’s not much smaller than the one in the movie, after all. And we’re guessing Somara had a lot less money to work with. It’s not easy to get this kind of likeness in an edible replica. Nicely done!

Hello, Cleveland! Tremont Henge

photo by Jeremy Wiggins aka zodar, with permission

As Spinal Täp said, “Hello, Cleveland!“

“There’s nothing wrong with Ohio, except the snow and the rain. I really like Drew Cary and I’d love to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!“* And now, folks, from the Tremont neighborhood of Cleveland, also known as the Best Location in the Nation and the Mistake on the Lake, Ohio’s first entry to our large permanent replica list! It just barely makes it in both the large and permanent categories, but we like Ohio. Cleveland Rocks! (And isn’t there a hellmouth there?)

As we see it, this modest henge can’t be more than 2 miles from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. There is certainly a good chance it was Spinal Tap inspired. But its true importance to us is as a demonstration. How many people wonder what to do with that odd bit of green between the sidewalk and the street? (Except in Seattle where they pack them with riotous flower gardens.) Here’s the perfect answer: build a henge!

Your neighbors will finally know you’re as weird as they thought, and the local baby-eating pagans  will have a place to perform their dark rituals! (Oops, OPAN, a pagan group not far away takes issue with that–their website clearly says, “not eating your babies since 1996“.)

A grass strip henge doesn’t have to be elaborate. Here they’ve gone with a couple of trilithons and a few standing stones, but it makes a  statement. Of something. Right? Okay, we’ll get back to you on that. But the point is, think how property values must have soared! People were probably on the verge of moving away, especially after the Indians got rid of their best players. Then someone’s brave henging saved the day! (We’re just speculating here, but how could we be wrong!? Just look at that henge.)

Score for Tremont henge? We’ll give it 5½ druids. We thank zodar for this great find. If he or anyone else gets further information on this, like who built it, how, when or why, please let us know. Honestly, what gets into people?

*(from the song Ohio, by Bowling for Soup)

Note–our next entry hasa Spinal Tap connection, so stay tuned.