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)

Saturday 14 December 2019

Hyborian Bridge 94


Well, I noticed one of your compatriots has restarted his ancestral pile, Hopwood Hall, near Manchester North England. There’s something about airy, ramshackle halls with bats roosting that is bracing to the spirit; all that’s needed to restart the ancestral culture is a meadowland of peasantry loyal offerings of produce to the new laird.

Nothing of that could happen without a paradigmic shift of practically 180%. Instead of information being a god it would be trampled underfoot as a false idol, and the gods of the mighty orbs raised to prominence (again). DH Lawrence had the idea that all deities were variants of one primal theme. All religions have a moral force, which one could imagine as the original wellspring of creation.

The demise of information would mean the demise of Darwinism, since an unthinking dance of creation is not evolution; it just is. Competition would then be trodden underfoot as merely a possible pastime rather than a creative act – of story. It’s noticeable that Howard’s historical stories are very fair and even-handed to the faiths which congregate around the common middle eastern watering holes in the early to late medieval.

The Blood of Belshazzar features a giant Norman Cormac FitzGeoffrey, Arab Yusuf el Mekri, Persian Nadir Tous, Turk, Venetian di Strozziand a Jewish retainer of the ogrish Skol Abdur. The mix of religions is never a bone of contention, only the various allegiances and shady dealings or outsight treachery of the races on display. Races often tend to band together, though the mix of the story seems merely to balance the scales. The pack only turns on FitzGeoffrey when el Mekri employs psychological ploy in a foaming fit of avarice.

…the Sheikh suddenly tore away and pointing a lean arm toward the giant figure at the foot of the stairs, screamed, “Allah akbar! There stands the thief! Slay the Nazarene!”
(page 216)
John Watkiss
The medieval principle, which Howard fully embraces, is that a particular place – here an outlander castle – harbours a diverse, ragtaggle assortment of wayfarers. Their very differences manifest a distinctive ambiance of mystery and intrigue. There is not a sign of the modern tendency for bigotry – save Howard’s habitual depictions of Jews as househould majordomos, natch – and one could hazard that the underlying reason is that at that point in history they viewed their faiths as variants of one spiritual wellspring.
Jerusalem – see Tales of Faith 11, 13 – was a spiritual nexus rather than a political capital. Politicians are the ones who gaze at their own reflections through the mirrors of technology, the spokespeople for a world built on information that smooths all differences. The logic of this is that – at root – we ARE the same; but it’s based on false logic (the false Apollo).
The logic is that by dispensing information our needs are fulfilled. This misses out the wellspring from which we (all) spring, which is the dance of life itself. In The Blood of Belshazzar, the assorted types conjure up a distinctive ambiance of bibulous effrontery, such as when Jacob calls for FitzGeoffrey.
“The Great Prince, Skol Abdur,” announced Jacob in pompous and sonorous accents, “would grant audience to the Nazarene who rode in at dusk – the lord Cormac FitzGeoffrey.”
The Norman finished his goblet at a draft and rose deliberately, taking up his shield and helmet. “And what of me, Yahouda?” IT was the guttural voice of the Mongol. “Has the great prince no word for Toghrul Khan, who has ridden far and hard to join his horde?” (page 201)
The sense is that the very differences make for the interest – and hence the story. They don’t necessarily like eachother, but neither do they necessarily kill eachother. There is a rough frisson that sets one against the other. Previously I made this same point about the TV comedy Rab C Nesbitt (Pictorial 13), whereby there is a low-level fight – and this creates the humour. Humans, unlike animals in an ecosystem, don’t kill and eat eachother. They indulge in a low-level ribaldry, banter or maybe brawling.
This sort of wild west atmosphere or frisson creates an ambiance made of differences. In medieval times mean and women could bridge their differences because their faiths were assumed to have a common wellspring. So, the political notion that all we need is information actually seems to destroy the ambiance of what you might call creativity.
In other words, different faiths, or races, have a rough frisson and it is this which creates the ambiance that makes life interesting and creative. The differences epitomise strength of temperament, and strengths have an affinity. This is seen in Howard’s tales of camaraderie between Christian and Saracen, such as in Sowers of the Thunder between Haroun and Red Cahal (Pictorial 11).
The lie of the modern era is that living things are information rather than a primitive dance that is as unthinking as the stars. Information is taken to be DNA; but where something grows it grows into different places (parts of body), and each place is surrounded by ambiance. DNA is the necessary order without which all would be chaos. Ambiance and place are the dance of creativity which makes things interesting.
Politicians, because they deal solely in facts, cannot see this unthinking truth of story and myth. Different myths for different peoples from the wellspring of cosmic creativity. Why have scientists come-up with an “information theory” (quantum string) of the universe? Because the idea of an unthinking dance is far from their minds, and so things get fantastically complicated.
For a start, how are songs written? If you take the Blues, they’re written as a simple framework of chords and loose-rhythms that accentuate a certain style. Simplicity is crucial for subtlety – a mixture of the two.
LET IT LAST (33 mins in)
To me that execution is as good as Mozart. Mozart is also simple and irresistible. The modern scientific mind is really following Ayn Rand’s doctrine that mental processes are a form of activity (The House that Rand Built 1). But music is harmonic, not logical, and Black music is rhythmically loose. Songs with a loose framework make improvisation easy – as Armatrading’s band do on most of her tracks.
All this is something that happens in a particular place between different performers, resulting in a distinctive ambience of feeling and texture. Performers will rehearse, but you have to assume some of what they do is instinctive - in time (see Grace Slick Hyborian Bridge 67 and Bruce Lee prev.)

The ambient universe is almost what makes life worth living, or one may as well live in a concentration camp with Martian overlords. Empty space can generate ambiance
local Carnegie library
Ambiance is the “unthinking” quality that bypasses the profit-motive of contemporary civilization (compare current and historical Shanghai!) Ambiance is what you discover under the starlit skies. What “they” would say is that it’s a subjective feeling of the mind. What if it’s the opposite? An objective reality of the creative-unconscious cosmos.
Even if there is no definite proof of this (since the universe is not logical), the proof is in the decline of ambiance in our major centres under the anonymous profit-motive (see cowboy ranch demise Hyborian Bridge 56) I was reading about the decline of Black sharecroppers in the south and Michigan and, while it’s true there were iniquities, the profit-motive of large owners heralded by FDR’s New Deal didn’t help. Prices went up while tenants went out (or up North).
The profit-motive rewards competition, while downgrading the ambiance of places. It really depends on the value one places on ambiance. What “they” say is that nature is forever competing and hence evolving; if, however, the growth of living things – and by extension neighbourhoods, shantytowns, ecosystems and ranges – is a song set to the music of the spheres, then it’s not a competition. Competition can only occur as part of a much wider ambit (of creation).
Hence, the idea of abstract competition is merely a figment of acolytes’ brains. It does not occur in the real world of action, moral purpose and the songs that express the wish to self-rule.
ME MYSELF I (12 mins in)