Monday 10 October 2022

Savage Rebellion (9)

 VAN LEAR ROSE

The eponymous song off the impeccable Jack White collaboration gets to the root of the physical sequences that establish a community. 

Aging instills a circular revival, somewhat like The Circle R ranch in Red Ryder does. Beauty ages while love - as in EC Tubb's classic Dumarest yarn Kalin - doesn't. When one is pulling or marrying then one has the aging factor in mind, which is part of what love is (attachment.)

The humanoid tendency (SR8) is blind to aging, as it is to sex differences or, clearly, race. Sequential development entails exposure to the physical reality of nature, where the air circulates and freshens the spirit. 

The physical health of young ones clearly impacts on their mental health, as this quote by Mirror columnist Siobhan McNally on her 14 year old daughter (TDL) attests. 

I try to point out to TDL when she and her friends complain they're bored, unhappy and have difficulty sleeping, that it's hardly surprising when the only light they see most days is the blue light from their screens.

More mental health is critical for our young people right now, but many of the teenagers want a quick fix-a pill to take away the pain.

When what they really need is my old granny, who'd switch off their PCs, and say, "Awa' ootside  an bile yer heid." (TDL=The Dark Lord, presumably for her hair.)

Physical sequences are songs playing in invariable time (rhythm), whereas the machine distorts rhythms and places them in variable time (orbitsville.)

Love and beauty and the lifecycle can only be distorted by the humanoid offerings of Musk&Co. In his recent lecture, Musk offhandedly referred to the future 'sexual applications' of his humanoids. 

However, that can only occur with the corresponding corruption of natural rhythms, otherwise known as the profane serpent (prev.) One could imagine a sequel to Van Lear Rose.

When I was old I got me a robot slave

'Cos the Van Lear rose had passed away

It was good in the sack and I had myself a ball

No more need for that beauty now at all

Love & Rockets, in the pulp sense of the Hernandez Bros, always entails a recognition (reimagining) of the shambolic reality of the a priori settings of Americana.

The leftover people who inhabit the fly-infested condo-commune of Capri in Ghost of Hoppers (Jaime, prev.)

The foul-smelling waters of the abandoned swimming pool symbolise the abandonment of government and the seepage of decay into the pseudo-commune of semi-isolated, leftover, Hispanic-slanted weirdos.

Take away governance, and that is the a priori reality of the California ghetto. As government approaches the humanoid and the inhuman, the real world inhabits pulp-oriented milieux that have the aging beauty of natural lifecycles, rather than the hygienic utilitarian. Utility is the absence of physical rhythm, the end result being the pure mental content of ones and zeros. The dual-note of Jirel Meets Magic ( prev) that distorts and confuses with endless reflections (electromagnetism, sun, Newton, induction.)

Decadence invokes a revival of spirit that is in the joy of freedom from routines that benefit only robots. When that happens, the revival of unregimented communal spirit is the payback that no amount of individual wealth can possess. (Incidentally, Tommy Cook who played Little Beaver in Red Ryder was bleating with nostalgia or melancholy in an interview with Skip E Lowe. Perhaps for the antagonistic motions of the horses of yore.)

Appallingly enough, people seem to believe that, because things are hygienic and tidy, they are also beneficial, but the opposite is true. The physical reality is disordered (decay, dried buffalo manure), and the disorder leads to revival of a fertile order.

Within this milieu, loneliness is assuaged by communal bliss. The physicality is a health boon, so both aspects of existence are taken into account by simply letting things be without governing them into extinction.

Governance becomes a mandate for the verbal/numerical future so effectively pilloried by JK Rowling (SR8).

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness (Keats)


Ghost of Hoppers, Jaime Hernandez