LYRICS

The applications are to blameAll the people do all dayIs stare into a phone (Placebo, Too Many people)

“Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!” (Chief Seattle)

When rock stars were myths (Sandi Thom, I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker)

Machines were mice and men were lions once upon a time, Now that it's the opposite it's twice upon a time (Moondog)

Time is an illusion (Einstein)

Monday 13 January 2020

Pictorial 85




Data, because it appeals to the compulsive ego (of the head) which worships the primeval serpent through “the mirror of nothingness” – lines of light, reflections on screens – dominates through the sorcery of information.
Maga’s dance
A dance appeals to worshippers of the graceful body in motion and, in Talbot Mundy’s tale, in places of disgraceful ambiance. Ambiance again has to have a numerical relationship that is the opposite of data, to do with harmonic correspondences that occur spontaneously or by chance. Dark wooden roof beams; Persian carpets; horse dung; ivory limbs; low wooden –frame chandeliers; stray whisps of mountain eddies.
The problem with modernity – see Tales of Faith 2 – is that, while DNA can save your life, it can’t give meaning to living. Meaning does not come from data, but from proportions. It’s not Euclid but Pythagoras. The lie is born of reason ($) applied to pleasure for effect (HB99). The eternal sunshine of lifestyle and wellness (sic) that lives with lines of light (electro-impulses).
Those who worship their own image in all its abysmal mortality. Theirs is the death of the awareness of death as they become one with the machine of “effect”. Such is data, the death of awareness.
A dance – the wild gypsy dance of Maga – is line and movement in a harmonic that speaks in the language of the rafters. At once as abandoned as the wind and as strong as an oak.
Whereas data is born of the head which is one with the machine, a dance is born of the body that is one with the wind. The blind unthinking wind that cares not what Man does; that leads into wildness and abandon (Crom’s mountain).
It is the physical reality that carries an emmanance of psyche; that is one with the soil of the earth and the beasts of the fields. It is the physical adventure of bucolic life where line and movement hold sway in the ambient terrain..
..of the cosmos. The harmonics of the spheres are echoed by those of the body. Data is the compulsion of the sorcerer of the head that is physical boredom and hence death of awareness; death of the body. Dance is line and movement that echoes that of the stars and hence the harmonic awareness of the ambient cosmos.
Well, this leads naturally to Joan Armatrading! Here, her whole expression is harmonic, in the pose, the poise in cotton-picking costume, the cherubic countenance, the lack of effort.. as opposed to the strangled accuracy of moderns
BABY I (18 mins in)
The sorcerers steal our awareness because there is nothing without line and movement. All is a lie that deceives through the sorcery of information, born of physical boredom that compels the ego to worship the primeval serpent. The dance dies as reason is applied to pleasure for the sake of “effect”. Seen through “the mirror of nothingness” (Hyborian Bridge 20) – lines of light, reflections on screens, electro-chemical impulses.

With ambiance comes dirt and the aura of decay, of the lifecycles that bear fruit (literally!) We are heirs to Dionysus and not to the false Apollo; why be mental slaves to a sorcery of information while holding no sway over the fields and groves that bear Dionysian fruit? 
 
Humans can apply reason when it suits them, not at the expense of their own non-progressive origins which are physical and strong, psychically pure, no slave to dragonspawn of inhuman lust, profane hygiene. Dirt and ambience conquer through strength what human weakness invites through psychosis.

A dance can conquer with starborn strength the very presence of death that stalks a land. The zest for life can conquer the presence of death. All is strength, all is line and movement in the adventure that can only be killed by inward-turning lies of the sorcerers of psychotic data of the mind, the mind that sees through “the mirror of nothingness”.
Aristocratic hunting party on Scottish moors, circa ? Collection of Murray MacKinnon.
Unthinking acts and cosmic harmony of Man, animal, plant.