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)

Thursday 13 August 2020

Pictorial 135






If there is a sorcerous system, it is the profane serpent that cannot be denied by the immaterial, the serpent that exists in the mirror of illusion (electromagnetism.)


In mundane normality, the serpent is primeval rhythm; the folding turns of the body in recline (). In the sorcerous system, the serpent has been extracted and exists in the labs of acolytes in profane guise as cultured meat etc (GM, DNA).


While science professes to be logical, it relies on profanity since logic cannot explain living systems which are symmetrical. The spokespeople for the system – like Atten-bore, prev – cannot explain rhythm, but it doesn’t stop them delivering an infinite number of meaningless words against a backdrop of swarming forms.
What science does not do is take rhythm as the starting point, rather than a stream of facts that have no psychic or physical reality. The fact that rhythm is unknowable – as illogic as time – and has to be experienced points to science as a mirror of illusions.
They – the acolytes – enter the mirror by avoiding the primal aspect of creation - the symmetrical serpent – and replacing it with straight-line perspective. Because the physique can’t be denied, the profane serpent enters this mirrorland of logic. The entire logical system is a convincing nothingness devoid of psyche or the physical, of content or style. They are replaced by number, convincing to the ego.
It doesn’t matter whether you take Darwin or any of the other sorcerers. Darwin can’t explain rhythm, and replaces it with other discoveries like DNA. The system is sterile because fertility is a product of serpentine symmetry of physical forms of animal and human. The symmetries connect back and front and sides into proportionate shapes of action in the field.
All scientific systems are information as opposed to symmetries. Information attracts the ego to the mirror of sterile illusions. What is sterile is also rubbish in that it cannot revive from decay.
As noted in P111 the primitive sublimity of sphagnum moss peatland decays and revives in acidic greens and browns. The caustic content of places of power that would offend a Trump or Musk.  What “they” call green and clean is simply sterile. A castle is draughty and smelly and therefore has an ecology of dereliction – the strength of survival that is left by-and-large to fend for itself.
Draughts are healthy to the lungs, and germs are strengthening to the immune system. Castles have fertile cultures that are self-generated, much like what applied to Detroit (Drama3).

Tudor re-enactment




Glasgow tenement 1960s, Gothic deluxe (Daily Record)

The modern mirror of futuristic progress is convincing but doesn’t have the time-based attributes of creepy atmosphere and haunting desolation that gives presence to abandonment.

I know desolation isn’t very nice, but it won’t kill you and adds to the spice of life. As I tend to say, dereliction allows for revival through psychic and physical strength.

The mirror of illusions “they” operate is psychically weak and getting weaker over time. The patina that time leaves on things is really a product of the serpentine reality of lines over time.

The psyche of pleasure, the frolics of a funky gibbon – all are pure rhythm that science denies, while letting-in a profane variant in the form of sterile techniques (clean meat, GM, DNA).



The mirror of illusions, the sausage-factory (prev) – same thing - see Doury ().Another image that springs to mind is the one of Ayn Rand in her architectural "Fountainhead". Stern and self-absorbed, it contrasts nicely with the one of Perrine Sandrea ready for action in the field. The one is of the head - mirror, illusion - the other is fertile and of the lithe body, the sinuous neck.

 


Rand/Sandrea

C7 
The images of a Randian city have their attractions. There is a style that may be somewhat ascetic but can't be downgraded to Trumpian tastelessness. The big city has its place; it's only when reality becomes logical that the physical rhythms of the country are eclipsed by profanity.

Ayn Rand was a philosopher not a practicing scientist. I suppose she liked the psyche of pleasure, which is really rhythm-based. The enemy is not Rand, it is the acolytes who make of a numerical/monetary system the entire reality, not just the rational market a la Rand, extracting primal rhythm in the process.

Thus is the profane serpent formed in the labs of modernity. The noble horse is a counter to this Black Sun. Let's ride back in time, to






To those who argue that facts are accurate; facts cannot be detached from physical reality. To take a biological example, sweat glands produce watery secretions which evaporate in heat, taking energy out of the surrounding air. This creates a cooler surface air (much like convection does).

All biological processes are chemical, which rely on physical processes. So, to say something is natural selection can only really be true detached from physical reality – which governs the entire process.

It could be said it’s physical reality that selects the organic process, rather than the organic process selecting anything!

By and large, physical selection will override any organic process since physical processes are so universal. The physical processes of the sea produce fish which have many similarities; of the land ditto; of the air ditto.

What “they” call natural selection has much less to do with primitive physicality, and much more to do with an immaterial state of number (algorithm) that changes the physical reality to a sterile profanity. The “facts” are true in a sterile state that attracts the ego to the Black Sun of calculation, that shines where the sun don’t.


Similarly, if the lungs weren't physical, they'd just be worthless junk. Anything physical has to be effective to a proportionate athletic figure performing physical acts of hunting and everything else a soul needs. When the physical rhythms – of land, sea, air – are eclipsed, enter the profane serpent that cannot be denied by the immaterial, the serpent that exists in the mirror of illusion.


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