Theyre planning an 8-lane by-pass over the Past & you the handsome - TopicsExpress



          

Theyre planning an 8-lane by-pass over the Past & you the handsome young Emergency Archaeologist must quickly rescue a few shattered fragments from oblivion. Just as a mastodon can be inferred from a few bones by osteomorphological intuition so you grip to reassemble these shards jigsawed to randomicity by bulldozers & dynamite into some relic of the Palace of Memory. Organ music UP. Its a magical papyrus buried by spirits 40,000 years ago revealing the secret rituals of an Order not quite human. Palengenesis can recreate a living rose from its ashes according to Paracelsus as sweat beads your noble brow. Science is baffled. In strangely hyperrealist scenes you seem to visit torch lit caves where Emblems flicker in mushroom light & chants filter down from other dimensions in a synasthesiac gesamtkunstwerk of erotic-esoteric enigmas. Suddenly you find yourself afloat in an ivory boat on a marble lake of lotuses at the Summer Palace outside Peking in 1903 & beside you the Dowager Empress Old Buddha is eating frog congee & listening to the Imperial Water Music Ensemble. She turns & points a five-inch lacquered fingernail at you & intones a Manchu mantra bestowing upon you the power to smite enemies with hideous boils & rashes with just words. To raise storms. Charm Snakes. Wake up! she hisses, youre cursed to search forever for Hidden Ireland. The Order of Bards has set sail without you for Tir na Nog the island of youth & evaporated in Jacobite conspiracies in the late 18th century. And indeed things look bleak as you find yourself back at the dig: concrete has been poured like leprosy over the whole site & lawyers have arrived with writs of cease and desist. And the artifact is missing, presumed stolen by sinister forces. Suddenly you find yourself the High Priest of a religion that exists only in the unseen world of your memory, lost & accused of schizophrenia by your erstwhile colleagues, reputation shot, grandmaster of a powerless cabal, prophet of a future that should have been but wont. -Hakim Bey, from The Black Fez Manifesto
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 13:52:40 +0000

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