The manifesto says that the law on hunting will not change and foxhunts will not be brought back.(Carrie Symonds)
How can one person be so wrong yet seem so right? That conundrum could apply to the Western system, which seems to slowly suck-in south, north and east like some Leviathan of the deep.
The Leviathan - or the profane serpent - is essentially the individual who up-close seems to radiate normality, but taken as a whole they lack the cosmic harmony that makes things work.
There's a quote from CC Beck on over descriptive descriptions that could be likened to Mishima's equating of modern science with voyeurism (prev.)
Description in the modern lexicon applies to everything from microbes to galactic clusters - what can be so wrong with that?
Because description itemises everything into a logical universe of lenses and perspective (numbers, algorithms, AI). Description is both very right and completely wrong from a cosmic perspective.
Description is a way of compartmentalising things and tidying the universe (see. ) The modernist universe is weak because it is a process of tidying, rather than actively living in it.
This is where pulps are paragons of strength in that their descriptions are much more holistic. Francis Stevens' first substantial published story, The Nightmare, reads like an advertisement for the lusty, hungry lifeforms of some primeval throwback. It us a land of the night.
The upper rim of the sun was just disappearing below the western wall.. and only a few minutes later the tropical night was upon them, with its wonderful stars and refreshing , fragrant breath of coolness.
It brought something more than coolness in its wake, it brought a rising wave of sound from the jungle beyond the open meadow. The valley of the day was no more, and the valley of night has swung wide its doors for all the creatures which crouched, awaiting the liberating touch of darkness.
Hidden on a volcanic island, it is not only noisy but gloriously scenic and at the same time nauseatingly saprophytic.
As they approached the dreadful charnel odor became more intense.. Shoulders thrust forward, eyes half-shut and smarting, they pushed through it as through some tangible obstruction.
Then the first of the many-hued mushrooms were crunching beneath their feet..
Her later and possibly most fabulous fantasy of all, The Citadel of Fear, practically replicates this chthonic area of unsettling, primeval power.
"You are in a city where mercy and kindness excel, and their roots are set in a monstrous cruelty. Where beauty springs out of horror, and they worship benignant gods with the powers of a devil!" (page 44)
The place was shaped like a cathedral rotunda, but it was floored like-like nothing on earth that he had ever seen.
A sort of unnatural marsh, or fen it was, where pale slimy rushes grew out of steaming mire, and globular fungi shone with a livid, phosphorescent light..
among them.moved living shapes..he had met those shapes before.. "The white hounds of the Guardians..!" (page 62)
Near the start, "Boots" linguistically stumbles over a snake.
"It's Eden without the-" began Boots, when whirr-r-r came a sharp warning sound from the long grass that bordered the path. Boots bowed in mock salutation toward the sound, "Asking your pardon, Mr Rattler! Eden, serpent and all, is what I'd meant to be saying."(page 17, Paperback Library, 1970)
Since the story concerns Quetzalcoatl - the feathered serpent, see DH Lawrence, prev - this makes it somewhat obvious that serpents - primeval rhythm - are associated with ancient cultures inimitably (see also Kari Hohne, prev.)
Modern Western Man is moving away from these ancient areas. The areas that contain lusty, hungry lewd forms - be it white prairie dogs or bugs in the swamps (ever took a close look at a garden pond?)
This is the fertile ground where living things spread their seed (see prev on Darkchilde and Limbo). Limbo - modernism - is dormant but convinces with an ever-expanding universe of information. The more that develops, the more it becomes the Leviathan to engulf us all, and the less physically realistic the situation!
I happen to receive Pamela Geller's emails and, following the Trump debacle, her lies flow even easier so you are almost tempted to believe them. So plausible it's uncanny.
The chthonic universe is there for the same reason Greek Oracles or garden toads are/were. Life is not logically tidy and its harmonics are dark and disturbing.
Germs are not terribly nice things (another Stevens story tells of a device that displays enlarged microbes to devastating effect). They eat or are eaten. That's life (or death).
However, if you want Carrie Symonds-style niceness you're in the wrong universe. Strength and decay and revival are chthonic areas that need reviving.
An ancient ecosystem - such as the Brazilian forests - is one where the chthonic areas strengthen the living with microbial forms. Health us ultimately dependent on the germ population - the exact opposite of what "they" tell us.
The germ.population is simply the state of abandon - of leaving things be. Amazonian Indians are on the cusp of development and so tend to get exposed to emerging infections.
Outbreaks such as Covid are really down to disrupted ecosystems and therefore ultimately the disrupted germ populations (that are hosted in animals that may stray into human habitats).
Harmoni s are not logical; if anything they thrive in illogical untidiness. I've previously put in a word for religious states such as Turkey, Iran, India for the reason of their paramount psychic symmetries. A mosque or a temple is a scene of cosmic harmony. The fact that the Ganges is filthy is just one of those things. This scenario is akin to the Hyborian Age; the autocratic Ayatollah Khameni is much more a Hyborian type than any Israeli democrat.
On the Israeli front, they are using social media influenzas to create content for Arab neighbours. You can pretty well predict the way that will go. In the direction of confident wrongness of the individual, as opposed to harmonic disorder of the ancient souks and oases. The same direction as bin Salman's Neon City, natch.