Pictorial 130

The fact that the gross physicality of symmetry and proportion – the primitive lewdness represented at New Grange (prev) – is ignored by the mainstream is obvious in their espousal of profane meat.

You know the article on traditional husbandry linked to in P128? There’s a much bigger article on “cultured meat” in the same paper.

Falseness is routinely presented as “fact” since – as has been pointed-out already – they are very similar. Facts in a sterile order are a product of straight-line, perspective logic.

 

You assume they harvest stem-cells which automatically divide, so it’s a type of life without the attributes of living.

De Quetteville writes persuasively as that’s his job. Like Gates before them (prev) they go for “bleeding” meat that gets the chops working.

Throughout all the persuasive copy, it might escape notice that this is profane meat. It may not be GM or DNA but equally there are no physical conditions for strength.

There is no physical activity of grazing, of recycling materials, of causticity, of lewdness or of an ambient situation where the behaviour (psyche) is exercised on God’s Earth.

The serpent is loose in the meat since, without the symmetries one doesn’t know one’s ass from one’s elbow (see “cuts”, prev.) In order to know what you’re eating, “they” have to tell you, so you get yet more copy Here it's something on beetroot).

The conditions of strength are born of symmetries, of dirt and cleanliness and the cycling of materials. From the physical is the psyche expressed, in the moonlit lows of herbivores on the range.

 

What “they” are really saying is that the physical and the psyche in rustic situations are now past tense. The sanitary techniques can do without them.

On two counts that is wrong (or three, counting the moral). One is that the serpent is loose in the cultured meat. Two is that physical conditions for strength are progressive; the soil is fertilized, plants grow, birds sing and feed on bugs (tra la la).

Where there is rustic song and recurrence of seasonal cycles of strength, Dionysus the gay god dances, his donkey neighs charmingly. The seasonal aspects of rural living are represented. The serpent has a sinuous sense in the movements of dancing figures, the supple spine (instinct).

What “they” are selling in their “advertising” copy is a future without activities of a rural, bodily persuasion that are gay and lewd.

Cultured meat is profane because the serpent is a lewd creature. There is a sexual aspect to growing meat and this aspect cannot be denied since it is just a physical reality. Growing "clean meat" in a lab is another way of saying there is a numerical compulsion. You can see from the diagram that numbers take the place of physicality. The cells grow into strands containing up to a trillion cells, and these are then layered.

The numerical compulsion has to be sterile; otherwise there would be growth with living attributes – symmetries of the body. The fact that it’s sterile doesn’t mask the fact that there are lewd possibilities; slime and sleaze are physical aspects of life; the lewdness is still there in a serpentine form that could be adapted to either sex.

The sterile order makes the assumption that they can make a world that is completely separate from lewdness but, in fact, the lewdness is just there in another form. Its very sterility gives it a profanity that can be adapted to male or female. This harks back to Jean-Luc Godard’s Weekend and the erotic beginning with "Anal Ysis" motif.

Another way of saying it is that the Black Sun of calculation has no distinction in terms of sexuality, and the numerical compulsion produces meat of profane lewdness (since the physique can’t be denied). In a way it’s a complete lack of romance; the recognition that living things are fertile and have behaviours that are meaningful (psyche, atmosphere, lust.)

There is a sort of hypnotic deception in the long-winded copy that sells these techniques as sterile and safe (similar to “Friend”’s hypnotic delivery, P129) A physical deception that ignores the land that needs cyclical regeneration to thrive in seasonal splendour.

All these factory-techniques (see the sausage-factory of Tout Va Bien; Doury, Aristophanes, prev.) really hark back to the ruptures that occurred between the countryside and rural pursuits, with the growth of megalopolises. Quite a useful data in this context is 1854: Commodore Perry’s steam-ship raid on Edo (predecessor to Tokyo) that opened-up Japan to outside trade. The Shogunate collapsed a few years later and the age of Imperialism began.

Hiroshige

This print of Edo c1841 paints a fairly fisherlike picture; the comings and goings of peasanty-types into the bustling throng of the port.

 

This active intertrading between country, sea and town doesn’t disappear – as can be seen from the 50s Edinburgh fishwife (HB127). Modern advances don’t stymie ancient practices (see 19th century Shanghai which was then a city of pig farmers   ).

It’s because there are two things going on; the countryside has its own rhythm, the town has its. They can interact with lively gusto. It’s only when progress becomes an exercise in sterilization that the fertile zones of lewd and lusty living become to “them” a thing that is really dirty and unnecessary.

This misrepresents the fact that strength is a combination of dirt and cleanliness, that meat on four legs fertilizes the land for crops, insects, birds.

The whole mindset is against fertility that gives lewd vigour to rustic pursuits, where milkmaidens sway with lusty abandon. If that’s sounds like a cliché of peasant idyll that doesn’t make is less true.

The sinuous serpent is present in rustic pursuits. But it is also present in the labs where profane meat is grown. Ignoring that fact is a recipe for physical and psychic weakness in a future where meat and algorithm are one.

Hyborian Bridge 127

The Record has some more archive footage (P124); this is a Sunday dinner get-together in a Glasgow tenement, circa 50s

There is a lot of movement to-and-fro, clutter. If there was a dog under the table it would do well! Like a castle, the social, communal area is dancing and free-form, rather than really specialised in one area.

 

The ambience is a free-form of the body that is freely expressive, whether sulky or sultry. Most social areas nowadays are standardized into moo-eyed smugness.

 

 

The fish-wife from Edinburgh is clad in loose work-clothes, bunched to accentuate strength of female physique (uses head for strength, not thinking!) The Record says these colorful pursuits in the centre of Edinburgh uses to "walk into town" - so that is all gone to the era of distribution and desultory numbers.

 

The predatory reptile must be fed through its neck, and the colorful pursuits follow. Our bodies are proportionate and symmetrical, and this gives meaning to the story of life (Weird 11 "The Enchantment").

 

The head can be persuaded that it is no longer living in this proportionate, symmetrical body & and that is what has happened since the free-living 60s. The mainstream now exists in the hall of mirrors of acolytes of sorcerers (HB20).

 

You could ask, why has this happened now? And the answer is as one approachrs the vanishing point of technique one gets closer to zero. Words become numbers, and numbers are convincing to the ego.

 

We live in the age of protests (Hong Kong, blacks), but not of meaning and power. The Hong Kong guys should have taken-over the reins of power and declare common law. It's a power game, not a social-media show.

 

Blacks might be better off running their own affairs more as in Detroit (Drama3) rather than taking to the streets. The ambience of a particular place is not a numbers game, it's a dance of life, song and movement.

 

The more this dance is denied by physical boredom, the more the compulsion of numbers runs affairs, and the less the expressive body is in control.

 

Physical acts are the reality, and fro this lack of boredom is physical strength derived. Ambience is the visible sign of that story being written (see old photos of Harlem).

 

In the modern hall of reflections, we are seeing multiple head (Hydra) in a sterilised hospital setting, where profane meat is on the menu (GM, DNA P121). Back in the squalor of a 50s Glasgow tenement there is dirt and cleanliness, psychic ambience and sensuality of expressive physique.

 

Quite a lot of that comes down to atmosphere - a substance that is in short supply in modernity. Atmosphere is almost an opposite to appearance (Apollo), being something that has shades of suggestion.

 

Chick Chalmer's photographs of Orkney and of cowboys - Denizens of the Netherlands 2 - have that type of feeling of something in the air.

 

You could liken it to a type of shabbiness where the rhythm of living comes first, and order second. Apollo - or order - is a false god in the sense that things are cyclical.

 

The cyclical state means the sense of living amongst caustic substances of nature; the smell of a sheep's fleece, the carrion of predators, the scavengers that squirm. Life's ordure us caustic but strong and prey to the cycles of nature (see Duffy quote on dried buffalo manure).

 

In Orkney, of course, one finds stone circles which constellate the serpentine nature of things. Even more nakedly primitive are the symbols found at New Grange in Ireland.

 

 

 

The serpent – the primitive – cannot be denied, and if it is not there in its natural guise, it will be there in unnatural, profane form.

 

The sinuous symmetries of things are primitive, strong and physically alluring. Where there is cyclical movement there is dirt and cleanliness, the process of decay followed by revival.

 

Ambience is really a product of the caustic nature of reality, of the cycling of materials. The condition is fertile, and where there is degradation there is revival. Ignoring this serpentine reality leads to a sterile order that is the product of the detached head.

Since physique can’t be denied, the head is caught in a compulsive numerical situation of physical boredom. The Black Sun that shines where the sun don’t shine (see Wizards of the Black Sun   ).

 

Symmetry cannot be ignored – after all, it is in quantum physics – and the barbaric strength and primal ambience is there for all to see.

 

Adastra © BWS 2003

Sublime symmetry, astonishing psyche

Pictorial 129

As with Darwin, the acolytes make of what is really a cyclical system (day and night), a straight-line, perspective order of competition - that is convincing to the ego.

 

This is always approaching the vanishing point of technique - head, expressive algorithm, ones and zeros - and away from the primitive physical reality that has ambience.

 

Ambience comes from the movements of the symmetrical body, the fact that it has a back and a front, a left and a right. The fact that the head is supported by the reptile neck which is ancient and strong.

 

The strengths of the body are sensual and predatory. Instead of the physical boredom of a world of numerical compulsion, there is food and dance. 

 

Where are the simple sensations that tell animals where to feed, when to have sex, how to be matriarchal? In the physique, since only the body has direction - front, back, left, right - and the agility to perform. 

 

The replacement of primal rhythm leads to new perverse lifeforms of the psychotic serpent of GM, DNA. Profane meat with no direction at all.

 

The symmetries of the body are its power to move, as well as to move the hearts of poets and minstrels. Symmetries are cyclical; in other words they go round from front to back and from left to right. A cyclical world is one of movement and fertility, of decay and revival.

 

It could be a garden pond (prev), or equally the dark fairyland of CL Moore's Black God's Kiss. The toad-like beings that squat and jump over marshland are bizarreness personified, as are the horses that run and neigh with terrifying humanity.

 

The tall, reed-like grasses that Jirel runs through, the marshes she skirts, are sensual and fertile, and this is a very good example of a physical and womanly story that has visceral movement (even of trees).

 

Moore is weaving an ancient tapestry, and her realm seems to lie outside of straight-line perspective. The problem with Darwinism - as was noted previously - is that it exists in the parallel reality of acolytes of Galileo (Newton), not the land of weaving lines that attracts storytellers.

 

The odd thing is that the more things are left to grow and be what they are in reality, the more delicately womanly and the less Darwinian they seem to be. It's almost as if the imposition of Darwin by "them” gives the opposite reality to what is there if left to grow. 

 

Why should that be? Because it's not just Darwin. We live in a perspective system that is the heir of Galileo, and the imposition of any theory will have the same attributes.

 

This system is very persuasive to the ego, for the very reason it is not a tapestry of symmetries, but a universe of facts. Facts by their nature are not movements or symmetries. DNA, for example, is detected by x-ray diffraction - ie a type of lens or perspective (cells, as noted before, are watery gels, so that is their physical substance).

 

Living things are visceral and gel-like; nevertheless: science portrays them as factual. And it's so convincing to the ego! Slugs slide on slime; the throat is a golden orifice that mucus enhances; tadpoles in garden ponds swim through green slime.

 

These are the poetical qualities that come out of the symmetrical movements of living things. Where there are symmetries there is slime and dirt. Where there is dirt there is cleanliness. It's a cyclical situation; of letting buffalo manure dry out and become useful (Buffy quote, prev.)

 

The cyclical situation is society left to be what it is in reality. Decline and the strength of decadence is in the revival, the psychic aura (Detroit Drama3).

 

This goes totally over the head of the political classes - from Putin to Merkel to mini-Merkel to Bloomberg.

 

(Putin) grew up in a rough-and-tumble neighborhood in the former imperial capital that grew shabby and destitute by then.

In the two decades under Mr Putin, the city of five million people got an expensive face-lift, with boutique hotels, local designer shops and organic food cafes popping up all over town. (DT)

 

Bloomberg ruined New York in much the same way. Quote,

'There are barrow-loads of flowers in Times Square, not barrow-loads of sleaze.'

Sleaze is the human version of slime; it lubricates areas that otherwise would be dry.

 

What is sleaze but the rhythms and movements and colours of the human body? The things you might see in the field in a Van Gogh painting. It's a form of primitive strength that doubtless existed in ancient Rome. Sleaze, like bare-breasted tribes, is a natural product that just happens, somewhat like ancient Greek sculptures.

 

The opposite state-of-affairs is the unnatural movements of compartmentalized office-workers seen in Doury (Pictorial 121). Instead of free-expression there is a semi-psychosis of living as meat in a sort of sausage-factory (Godard, prev.) where the serpent is free to roam.

 

In the factory (or hospital) people tend to act as if there are no differences - since meat is just meat - when the truth of natural living is that differences are powerful and primitive.

 

JK Rowling has been having an ongoing debate on the right of women to be women (ie different from men) which is mind-numbing so I won't go into it. Essentially "they" say if you're born with a male sex-organ it can be cut - again see Doury.

 

There is the whole issue of appropriation, which seems to be rife with confusion. 

 

Florence Pugh has apologised for cultural appropriation after admitting she wore cornrows as a teenager.

 

..(she said) a friend at the time criticised the way she'd styled her hair.

"She began to explain to me what CA was, the history and heartbreak over how when black girls do it they're mocked and judged, but when white girls do it, it's only then perceived as cool." (DT)

 

This confuses me, like, totally! Fashion appropriates styles left, right and centre. Pugh liked Jamaica and wore cornrows; it's just a choice, a fashion.

 

The primitive strength of tribalistic cultures is under threat from the disease of sameness. The mainstream acts as if we are all advancing towards meat (progress, algorithm) and the primitive strength of difference is treated more or less as something animal and odd, rather than the psychic and bodily resource that it is in reality.

 

Ari Up’s Rasta headdress of was a source of primitive power that probably attached to her psyche. Psychic strength - aligned to body movements - is what "they" don't want, so they seemingly confuse with messages of appropriation by a mainstream which is ideally advancing towards a hybrid type of meat/algorithm (see “the expressive algorithm”, prev.)

 

Marvin Gaye apparently thought the Stones had appropriated the blues, but that could be more of a commercial comment. Ari just likes black culture - same as Perrine Sandrea, prev - and behaves accordingly. Grace Slick likes Spanish culture - and behaves accordingly.

 

Those of a rebellious strain of mind are often drawn to the pungency of physicality. Grace Slick, in her memoire Somebody to Love? quotes a scatological verse she sang while at Finch finishing school. She calls this “Chaucerian trash”

 

The ancient Greek comedies were also harsh social satires, lewd and coarse (see Aristophanes' The Knights Pictorial 47 http://icionrebelle.blogspot.com/2019/04/pictorial-47.html

 

Whether it's Zappa's assholes, or coarse Roman graffiti (see Cleopatra, prev), it's all the same physical satire of a life which can never be purely cerebral. BWS's Adastra The Pizza Story is also in this tradition of furry coarseness that stops bloated speech with the reality of physique where the undergarments usually are. 

 

© BWS 2003

 

It’s a powerful zone which harbours the meaning of physical relations; which harbours dirt as well as clean linen. There’s a connection between undies and the physical power of the underworld (P128). Aran is so startled at the sight he swoons and is rendered speechless).

 

Modern society is not only words but also numerical, and this harks back to another Grace Slick quote on numerical compulsion (HB62/1). As time goes by, the numerical/monetary order resembles more and more a mirror of illusions, where the real physicality of living is absent.

 

The mirror - or electromagnetism - the Black Sun that shines where the sun don’t shine - that produces very convincing illusions to attract the ego. That illusion is the monetary order we're in, increasingly an algorithmic figment of acolytes' grandiose but futile plans for expansion.

 

The counter to a society where profane meat (GM) and sex-by-proxy (DNA) are the norm, is a decadent state. The strength of decadence is often contained in caustic reality. To a sterile order, the strength of decadence is paved-over with straight-lines, with the resultant loss of ambience.

 

A rebellion against this order has to take a leaf from Slick's brand of caustic physicality - which is really going back to the lewdness of Aristophanes (see "The Knights" prev.) Appearance can be appealing and persuasive enough, but underneath is the primitive serpent which is let loose to breed profane meat (see Doury, prev.) without the gross physicality of symmetry and proportion which are present in nature.

Pictorial 128

The falseness is at the heart of modernity and is caught in the Japanese sci-fi trilogy 20^th Century Boys. What is truth in a land of pure information and cybernautics? In this case it is “Friend”; Friend wants friends; all the same, all numbers, algorithmic identity. Everything and everyone is ditto and loves Friend, a blank-faced cypher.

 

The origin for this comforting dystopia comes from a gang of kids in 1969, who wrote a “book of prophecy” that future events seem to mirror. The kids in the longgrass; Donkey’s excitement at Neil Armstrong’s landing; nostalgia for kiddish larks; the ubiquitous presence of a masked “friend” make for a potent mix of pop-culture.

 

TRAILER

 

“What he’s doing right now is like a childish deceptions.” (one of the kids to Shogun in part 3).

 

If Friend is a cipher who inhabits the land of numbers that approach the vanishing point of technique, he could easily be Zuckerberg or others of that ilk like Musk, Bezos. Nostalgia has to be real – in terms of physicality – rather than a false ideal (of numbers, algorithms).

 

Like 20^th Century Boys, could the modern world be a clever deception; could progress be simply endless repetition into the straight-line universe of numbers? Of the three big corporate entities – Bezos, Musk, Zuckerberg – all are essentially the same thing, a programmer who became big in commerce. As noted in Pictorial 1Zuckerberg would mate with robots if he could; they are that close and friendly.

In order to get into “their” version of progress (I mean, has Man never progressed pre-industry?) one has to enter the land of straight-lines (perspective, vanishing point). Once there, in the land of mirrors (HB20) it’s all very convincing, since numbers are convincing. What I mean to say is, by journeying into space on Musk’s rockets, you are also going into cyber, becoming robotic. The work you do would be repetitive, you would be bored.

The reason is really because it’s a deception; the physical reality of the body is primitive and reptile. The detached head can deceive itself with the ego. Instead of primitive strength and psyche, one has the endless repetition of a ray of light (electromagnetism).

Semi-conductors switch between one and zero continually, so it’s a form of repetition. Baldly stated, there are ten numbers (0-9) but we could make do with 1 and 0, since 9 is 1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1.

It would make life pretty boring, but it would be accurate! So, in a way, everything mathematical can be a form of repetition. The thing that makes a progressive scenario – such as Man emerging from the leaves to the caves – is the gross physicality that occurs in conditions of strength.

Ambience, pungence, forest scents, crushed leaves, berries and carrion, predator and prey. These occur in the physical realm of day and night, where dreams and darkness exist.

But when one doth live in darkness, a mushroom is thy meat and moss thy bed.. and frightful comes the serene blue sky. (BWS Young Gods & Friends, “The Party”, Strangehands to Adora)

Darkness is the destruction of light by plants and the construction of fertility. The sterile land of light has a need for the dark. In Greek myth, the feminine aspect is represented by Diana of the moon, by Daphne of the laurel, by Proserpine of the underworld, spouse to Pluto.

With darkness is a proportionate reality born of rhythm and symmetry (Earthspin). As noted previously, Galileo is something of a deception in that the physical reality we inhabit is the Earth which spins, not the sun which is more or less static.

The sun is a perspective reality (of light, straight-lines), while Earth is a physical reality of pungency and roots. The goddesses of darkness are often depicted in underclothes, or very little more than whisps of linen. The female power of blood and fertility is often connected to the power of the underworld.

Either literally in the case of Proserpine, or in the sense of moonlit vines that run from the earth, crushed leaves under the feet of bounding Diana.. While Apollo is detached in airy flight, the goddesses are associated with the earth and earth-power. This power is quite cyclical, and where there is death and carrion, there is life and revival.

The exact same goes for mixed, traditional farming which fertilizes the soil for crops with grazing animals. The nether-regions of the animals, the faeces and urine, create strength through the process of microbial degradation.

This cyclical strength of decay and revival tends to be ignored by straight-line logic which disregards fertility for the sake of a sterile system of “efficiency”. The result is that the cycling of carbon is much reduced – a false efficiency.

The issue is one of dirt and cleanliness; of the strength that leads to revival and therefore health and sound, clean-living in rustic revival. It’s a false economy to ignore cyclical issues. There is also meaning associated with the physical acts that a sterile order lacks. A physical world has meaning that is associated with the earth and revival.

The revival has psychic repercussions and the gaiety of song; Dionysian pursuits, garlanded donkeys. The sterile order stymies this gaiety owing to the false logic of straight-line efficiency.

It’s also false because the physique cannot be denied, and so the land of physical boredom results in numerical compulsion; the Black Sun of calculation that shines where the sun don’t shine. In this sterile land, the serpent is loose in the form of profane meat (GM) and sex-by-proxy (DNA).

Pictorial 127

“let's empower people with 40 acres and a mule, let's give some land, that's the plan." Kanye West

Politics is approaching zero for more reasons than the purely political. Be it Biden or Trump, the protagonists approach eachother because they deal solely in money as opposed to the physical reality of fields and forests.

As an outsider, West may not yet be aware that the game is a money game. Or, as Clinton said, “the economy, stupid.”

All modern candidates are so ditto it takes a rapper to be different. Why are they ditto? Because money is numbers, and numbers are convincing. Money gets convincing things like iphones to plug-into the head and feed the ego with “facts.”

Certain of West’s other utterances make one assume him to be widely read so, while certainly egotistical, he isn’t plugged-into his own inane universe in the manner of a Trump. He goes outside the universe of the detached head (attached to machines) and into areas such as art history.

The fact he’s a also an astute businessman I guess is positive, but his priorities appear to be more broadly moral than narrowly monetary. The morality is that land empowers; it is a type of freedom the urban life appears to lack.

Tax is trivial compared to the moral backbone of rustic growth, decay and rebirth. However, not only is money convincing and gets convincing things, but the more convincing things get the leas real they are.

The real universe is proportionate and symmetrical, like an individual human body. A product of unthinking harmonics (womb.) The feminine principle of beauty and harmonic symphony (moon) is outside of ciphers/TV commentators, who are rapidly approaching the vanishing point of technique (numbers, algorithms.)

This state-of-affairs attracts the ego, which explains the similarities between Biden and Trump. Outside of this is caustic physicality, which is the product of the cycle of decay and revival in nature, of things being left to be what they really are.

 

Grace and strength (Pictorial 39)

The caustic materials of living cycles have atmosphere, because atmosphere is the presence of strength. This type of moral milieu and atmosphere is anathema to the Clintonian notion that money alone runs the economy (stupid.)

Money becomes the handmaiden for a logical system that approaches the vanishing point where straight-line advance becomes ever harder to distinguish from repetition. To what extent is modern progress actually repetition in the land of numbers (algorithms)?

Land provides freedom and strength, where numbers supply information. The information is attractive to the ego.. (etc.) This is where West’s quote is very telling. Life is not a numbers game. It is born of cycles and dies by the same cycles.

It is proportionate and symmetrical. It has atmosphere and caustic strength, smells, dirt, cleanliness. Every living thing has harmonic power – the feminine principle of beauty (womb, moon.)

This is the unthinking universe that actually delivers moral strength. TV commentators do not live in the unthinking universe (of nostalgia) and so can only deliver weakness and numbers. Trump is a product of this logical system, and cannot conceive that strength derives from the land, from mules and dirt.

From the west and the range – a slight coincidence with Kanye! From bison and other proportionate emblems of vigour on the plains. From their throats and the strong neck and pliable tongue that connects them to reptile origins.

The story of sinuous strength in active lands of dirt and dust and drench is an American one of nostalgia. Neither Trump nor Biden have apparently heard of it, only West.

 

Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young (about 1970)

Hyborian Bridge 118

While Caravaggio (HB114,115) has heavy, spotlit folds in an intensity of light-effect that convinces the viewer of realism, the old noir-ish films I wanna bring-in (such as Detour) are subdued and atmospheric.

The darks are more gray than straight black, and the highlights are whispy rather than smacking you in the4 face a la Cara. The noir-ish films don't strive for realism in that a photo doesn't have to; they strive to underplay form and let the contours of figures and grace of movement carry the day.

In a way, noir is trying to do the opposite to Caravaggio by downplaying realism and really going for shadowy effects and mood - as opposed to overpowering light-effects.

As a side-note, David and Goliath would never be lit like that in reality, so the realism is itself unreal or super-realism. Super-realism always has to do with light and nowadays, by extension, with algorithms (electromagnetism).

Super-realism is convincing - like the SpaceX Falcon landings on a sixpence. It reminds me of CC Beck's quote in TCJ #90,

One of the early aviators took an airplane over to China,and the Emperor was not impressed at all... "Look, emperor, it's flying!" And he said, "Well, that's what it's supposed to do, isn't it?"

The Falcon landings are convincing because they are so precise. They exist in the precise world of straight-lines and algorithms (light). This is what I call the Dark Sun that is a sterile creation of the head or, in this case, algorithms.

While the true sun is attached to the sky - if you think naively - and fertilizes the plants that feed the creatures that move, the Dark Sun is attached to the head (brain), which becomes the body. The result is physical boredom, and a fixation on sterile machines. This in turn becomes a fixation on rubbish removal and renovation.

Whether it be a spaceship or a smart-house, the result is physical boredom and the same predisposition towards sterility. Whereas in a decrepit house or a decrepit spaceship rubbish and bric-a-brac build up and dirt proliferates letting in germs and strength (of immune-system), a smart spaceship like a smart-city is always going to be robotically clean-and-orderly (see Mr X).

This area can seem illusory, as if a mirage or a video-game. The only thing that is not illusory is the continual evaporation of rubbish. The reason is that illusory space doesn't exist a s a physical substance that is allowed to develop a patina of age. It is continually rebuilt and the result of this is that rubbish must be continually carried away.

Whereas I was saying previously in a place like Detroit buildings become dilapidated and overrun and the patina of age and use is ever-present and strong, a type of feminine decadence, this fertility and strength is abhored in the era of the Dark Sun in which nothing is left to gradually decline and everything is new and therefore at the same time everything is rubbish!

The two tendencies are the same, taking place in resolved space, where there can be no possibility of revival from age-old patina and decadence. Resolved space is the parallel universe constructed of light, where everything is straight-lines and perspective. Everything is new and so there is a predisposition to rubbish removal; the two are the same.

Resolved space is attractive to the ego (of acolytes) who spout words. Words often become numbers (did you get Musk's new son?) and numbers become the expressive algorithm (prev) which "approaches" the human. "They" will write stories for these artificial faces, stories that have no decadence, no feminine spirit and therefore no revival (Artemis,Dionysus). Instead all is weakness and rubbish.

Only logic-systems have the quickness to facilitate precise maneuvres, which could seem advanced. Yes, but it depends if you wanna be run by smart-machines that are moving INTO resolved space. Resolved space is the logical space of the head. Some things are missing; mood and atmosphere - age-old patina and decadence; sinuous line and movement - the feminine ideal, the androgenous snake; temperament that is poetic and favors sturm-and-drang over pristine machine.

In short, action that is cyclical as opposed to the movements of things that are logical. From this comes psychic introspection to the rhythms and moods of nature, the eternal cycles of renewal.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee-

Assyria- Greece- Rome- Carthage- what are they?

Thy waters washed them power while they were free,

And many a tyrant since; their shores obey

The stranger, slave, or savage; -not so thou,

Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play;

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow-

Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form

Glasses itself in tempest; in all time,

Calm or convulsed- in breeze, or gale, or storm-

Icing the Pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark-heaving- boundless, endless, and sublime-

The image of Eternity- the throne

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monesters of the deep are made- each Zone

Obeys thee- thou goest forth, fathomless, alone.

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy

Of youthful sports..(etc -Childe Harold, Canto IV stanzas 182-184)

The unthinking harmony of physical substance carries the poet on the epic journey. Without rhyme and rhythm what are words? The advances that technology makes are somewhat illusory. I'm watching the Republic cliffhanger Haunted Harbor, with Kane Richmond and Kay Aldridge (of Nyoka) from about '45. The creaky, elemental patina of banged-up shacks goes hand-in-hand with radio-controlled sea-monsters and wireless dictaphones. Ingenious illusions of sea-serpents etc all organized from a hi-tech control-station.

It's pretty surprising how techno it is - or is it? Their radios aren't "smart" like ours, but the tech is the same. Nothing changes in the resolved space of electromagnetism. What changes is the atmosphere, the gritty, sultry ornately woody darkness that is pretty charming.

Republic also has a good line in primitive tribal cultures with bongo-beats and ancestral laws that are immutable (here, burning Kane for the killing of their chief). Nowadays, primitivism is supposed not to exist - the great modern hoax of the acolyte's head.

It's so convincing to them, this order of numbers, but decadence has its own charms; feminine ones of savage grace that chases and rends and tears (Diana the huntress and her hounds). The prey, the carrion, the age-old patina of wood and limb, of fungus that grows in time-lost caverns.

Hyborian Bridge 117

The Black Sun - from Clair Noto's Red Sonja story in HB109 - is as illusory as the city from which its sorcery exudes. Since light is destroyed by forests and transformed into fertility, that sun is the real sun that chases the moon across the sky.

The Black Sun is built of hygiene, and within its bounds there is a compulsion towards sterility, whereby sterility becomes a compulsion towards rubbish - the two are the same. In the real world (of the sky, day and night) fertility is always associated with dirt and decadence because it signifies strength - in the soil, in trees or even in dilapidated dwellings (C3 D3 C6).

With the Black Sun come equations and numbers; with the sky (day and night) comes rustic harmony. The question is: am I going so far as to say that the equations of dynamics - starting with Galileo, through to Newtonian ballistics, and on to Einstein - are a type of sorcerous illusion of the Black Sun rather than the true one?

It's not that ballistics doesn't exist; it's that it is movement without fertility. Where there is a rustic presence, women of the fields wear bunched garments that accentuate the line of the body and the strength of spine (P13). The Old West, with its stampeding steers and jangling cowboys on hooves of iron and lightning, heaved with the primal lusts of beast and Man (see also Cider With Rosie).

It's all very well for bin Salman to envisage flying cars and robots in Neom (prev.) but what exactly is the purpose of the flights? There doesn't seem to be an apart from money, and money is not fertility.

If you compare, let's say 19th century Bath with its Georgian crescents, women in bustles and horse-drawn carriages, the movements are gay, sensual, to a particular and gentle rhythm.

The leaves of a tree too have melodic rhythm, and with the addition of wind-chimes. Movement is not a purpose in itself. There has to be strength, and that means dirt (soil), trees, the landscape and the figures in it that till the fields (Ruth the gleaner, prev.)

So what i really mean is that the purpose, or meaning, comes from the sky - through which the sun travels. The sky (sun) represents power; the Earth (moon) represents fertility. The true sun is always associated with fertility; Daphne of the laurel is the Greek icon for this (notice in Strauss's opera she calls out "bruder" to Apollo, prev.)

The sorcerers from Galileo's time onwards have invented a sun that is sterile; the equations are to do with ballistics (flight or rotation) and not with fertility. I'm not saying it's factually inaccurate, just that it's weak. Where there is sterility there is a compulsive psychology towards rubbish and constant renovation. It's an ego-trap because equations and numbers are persuasive to the ego.

The world of weakness is always directed at  rubbish, whereas the world of strength reuses, recycles and leaves things to be transformed into use (see Buffy quote HB70). Be leaving things, by enabling dilapidation and strong shoots of new growth (meaning weeds), the strength of dirt and the cycle of growth and decay is reestablished.

What this means is that there is a primitive rhythms to things, languid. Growth of trees is a way sunlight is destroyed and the cool and dappled arbors restored. Along with all of that, the atmosphere also becomes languid and relaxed, poetically inclined, introspective, philosophical. It's also noticeable that films that are shot with very subdued light effects are a lot more atmospheric.

For example, there's Detour with Tom Neal, Ann Savage and Claudia Drake (as the nightclub singer). Shot in black-and-white, it really is misty, a dreamscape. The scene switches with Neal's voiceover simply by changing the light-effect to his face to sharply defined shadows.

That's just one example (from 1945). Shadows are the destruction of light and produce atmosphere. Along with that, shadows are noir, femme fatale, blood and the less than clear-cut.

So, what I would say is that this film harks back to a primitive universe of sky and Earth, as opposed to the sterile Black Sun (of hygiene). Therefore, that gives quite a good connection to the primitivism of Howard. It's the primitivism that cannot abide black sorcery and likes good old-fashioned dirt. Trees and flowers bloom, and there is a string psychology of muscular body.

The sky is king and the Earth is queen, and the gods (Mitra, Pteor) and goddesses (Ishtar) reflect it. Strength is primitive, after all, the body is not a logical thing of equations, it's a cosmic harmonic of blood and bone. Once that harmonic is challenged, the brain (ego) becomes one with the body. Since the physique can't be denied, the result is physical boredom, a compulsion to hygiene. The words of acolytes, persuasive to the ego of lethargy; the sleep of the Black Sun of sterile culture that exists in resolved space (straight-lines, sun, Apollo).

This is weakness that manifests in cities of light like Neom. The smelly,romantic Bedouin encampments are the reality to this mirage of the desert. Byron, the arch-orientalist, I can't help thinking wouldn't have thought otherwise.

Within the place of thousand tombs

That shine beneath, while dark above

The sad but living cypress glooms

And withers not, though branch and leaf

Are stamped with an eternal grief,

Like early unrequited Love,

One spot exists, which ever blooms,

Ev'n in that deadly grove -

A single rose is shedding there

Its lonely lustre, meek and pale:

It looks as planted by Despair -

So white- so faint -the slightest gale

Might whirl the leaves on high;

And yet, though storms and blights assail,

And hands more rude than wintry sky

May wring it from the stem- in vain -

To-morrow sees it bloom again! (The Bride of Abydos)