The Daily Fulton
December 1, 2021
“The Dun Maylock: Legends of Control, Not Courage”

From the archives. Contributor: Spence Hutchins, Curator of the Fulton Hills Historical Society. Republished with written permission from C.W.H.

By C.W.H.

Ah, Jamie Thorn. The self-proclaimed voice of reason. Retired but still ready to churn out opinions wrapped in nostalgia and blissful ignorance. Her recent musings on the Dun Maylock, branding them as “symbols of rebellion” and “misunderstood anarchist artists,” are almost cute—if they weren’t so dangerous. Jamie, while you’re busy romanticizing chaos, the rest of us are stuck living with its legacy.

The Dun Maylock weren’t renegade poets of rebellion, scribbling metaphors on the doors of society’s oppressors. No, Jamie, they were—and likely still are—agents of control, wielding fear like a scalpel. Their bloody handprint wasn’t a protest, it was a signature. Their actions weren’t cries for liberation but calculated moves to dominate.

Let’s take a stroll through the inconvenient truths you conveniently sidestep, Jamie.

The Fire That Burned More Than Fabric

Remember the Standing River Textile Fire of 1914? Of course, you don’t mention it. Too “messy” for your sanitized narrative. Witnesses reported shadowy gatherings near the mill in the days leading up to the fire, strange symbols etched into the dirt. Then the blaze hit, consuming not just the factory but the livelihoods—and lives—of those who worked there.

And yet, amidst the charred wreckage, a bloody handprint appeared on a piece of machinery. Evidence removed quietly before the “official” investigation began. How noble of your misunderstood artists, Jamie.

The Land Deeds They Didn’t “Borrow”

The Missing Land Deeds of 1932 in Crystal Falls. You call it a prank, an act of “disruption.” Tell that to the farmers who lost everything when their properties were plunged into legal limbo. Funny how chaos always seemed to benefit the Dun Maylock’s agenda, fostering distrust and division.

Pranksters, Jamie? Or predators?

“Nature Demands Balance” or Something More?

Cawakna Quarry Collapse, 1973. A note reading “Nature demands balance” left at the scene. You’d have us believe this was eco-activism, a poetic protest. But weeks later, the project manager’s body was found, his door marked with—you guessed it—the handprint.

Coincidence? Or part of a bigger game? A game the Dun Maylock always seemed to win.

The Ghost in the Machine

Now let’s leap into the 21st century, where Jamie would have us believe the Dun Maylock disappeared into the mists of history. The School Board Hack of 2011 says otherwise. Arts programs in Standing River? Cut. Emails exposing corruption? Leaked. The handprint wasn’t physical this time, but its digital echo was deafening.

And what about the Viral Handprint Hoax at Bean Awhile in 2019? Dismissed as a joke, but was it? Or was it a reminder? A signal that the Dun Maylock are still watching, still controlling, still thriving.

Fear Wields Power

Jamie asks, “Who benefits?” I’ll tell you who, Jamie: the Dun Maylock do. Their actions have always been about one thing—control. Not justice. Not rebellion. Not art. Just power, wielded through chaos and fear.

So, Jamie, you keep sipping your chamomile and writing love letters to history’s villains. Meanwhile, the rest of us will be looking over our shoulders, keeping an eye on the shadows where the Dun Maylock thrive.

Because they haven’t disappeared, Jamie. They’ve evolved. They’ve traded handprints for digital fingerprints, blood for bytes. And while you wax poetic, the rest of us are left wondering: when will they strike again?

• C.W.H.
  Seeker of Truth, Bearer of Light