Who care nothing for their country's stories and songs

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Scottish Friction 3: 1982, Janine (Alasdair Gray, 1984)

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Andrew and Steven, Those Amusing Brothers

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DOOMED SUMMER: The Constellation of Krypton

Rebis, holy hermaphrodite, fusion of solar and lunar energies. Rebus, puzzle where images represent words. Horny devils baby. The rapturous dissolution of logical categories.

Through the abyss contradiction is unity.


The reconciliation of opposites is central to Doom Patrol and the Doom Patrol. Cliff is work in progress, Jane is hard won, a river inside her bones as she goes down to the well. Rebis is a natural process. The cosmic acting on the material. The material acting upon the comic.

Like most Virgos, Adorno hates astrology. Pressing the heavens into manifesting bourgeois desires, the stars have aligned, ask your boss for a pay rise.

“The tendency to occultism is a symptom of regression in consciousness.”

A manifestation of the same impulse that looks for an _ism to build your life around and tell you who to other. The occult another generator of comforting commodities for the culture industry. Adorno dissing stars and Ringo Starr, felt-tipping triskaidekaphobe Schoenberg on his denims. Pretentious hypocrisies abound in Adorno’s mixtapes but his concern is only preventing the next wave of fascism. The Nazi’s were enthusiastic occultists, and today’s Right easily embrace pagan and occult thought, through tradition, gender essentialism and ecological nimbyism. The counter-culture kneeling in Buckingham Palace and the money in crystals and multiple blessings from Teams of Light suggest he has a point.

At the very least we need to be careful, yeah?

The battle to reconcile the divided and contradictory parts of us is hard won even when it is a natural process. Adorno wouldn’t understand engagement with the occult as creative act of merit, that we might be having a laugh in our magics, with the materials available to us. That laughter could bring serious change.

The distinction between the cosmic and the material is one of the oppositions to reconcile.

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Hello, you’re looking nice today.

I try and avoid the news now, because it subsists almost wholly on low level irritation with intermittent ghastly horrors, and there is no ‘just right’ amount of sand to throw in your own eyes - the right amount is in fact, zero.

EVERYONE SAYS THEY LIKE A SOLUTION BUT WHEN YOU START OFFERING FINAL ONES, WELL,

NO PASARAN!

Unfortunately because I work at the thin end of the wedge, news finds me, twice recently, connectedly with the fash on the rise and the most dislikeable boy in Britain Tiny Yaxley-Lennon (with his name like a Beezer worstcunt) teaming up with the Most Dislikeable Boy in the Whole World, the Afrikaaner emerald inheritee, Apartheid Clyde to say “actually probably darkies do deserve knifed.”

"If you registered it, you would wind up with nothing, because the Blacks would take everything from you" - his dad.

IN REPUBLICAN LOCHEE, LIBRARIAN RUNS UP ON YOU

I fucking hate fascists. They seem to have somehow got past the ‘incipient’ stage this time too, in some ways aided by a WOAT Labour gov.

I have been meaning to devote some time to Deniz Camp’s wonderful, sensitive Absolute Martian M******er with its reverse Randian deco art, it’s basically Idea War, guess who the bad composite idea #0 underlying this universe is, 

that’s right, it’s  old Mussolini-face who said fascism “might better be known as corporatism”; he might have been a shit who met a well-deserved end on a butcher’s hook but that is insight, MF.

THE SOUND OF THIS ENDLESS SUMMER

Some debate around Mindless towers what song of the Summer is, I could hear a lot and am tempted to believe it’s Big Poe, but it’s actually Chains and Whips over the No Church in the Wild beat - emblematic of the end of the fruitful but soured Pusha T and Kanye era, he has his brother back Mr West, no need for you anymore, and the perfect mathematics of brother Malice and then Kendrick hitting gen/gen/fuckingn over it, well I simply can’t get enough!! The way he says “you fucking dickheads” >>>>

Chains & Whips but the beat is No Church In The Wild

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Vexillomania (flag shagging)

Argent a cross gules. The heraldic language is precise. Gules means red, from a crimson dye made by crushing mites scraped off oak bark. Argent is silver, not white. No signifier of purity or innocence, but the colour of coin.

Applied in practice, wherever stamped, the mark has only ever meant one thing:

This is property.

The sign is Templar treasure, part of the mathematics of abstraction mined from the libraries of al-Aqsa along with the code apparatus used to develop modern finance and accountancy. A technology for turning value into a signal of its own conceptual existence, backed by private force of arms. 

As a flag it was first seen in the British isles on boats belonging to the imperial Republic of Genoa, a commercial city-state. The merchants and navy insinuated themselves into the north bank of the Thames and soon their brand covered every alley and corner for a square mile, shipping tribute back to the Doge. 

A scarlet sword was added to The City flag in April 1381 as a warning of intent responding to civil uprest in the shires which threatened to overwhelm the crown. Before midsummer the companies assassinated the rebel leader, a dagger thrust in his guts, and with this one act took effective permanent control of the state. 

The mob’s current erythema can be interpreted as a Stockholm syndrome experience of that ontological hijack, viciously signalling their pride in their own defeat and submission. Owned by its owners. But don’t mistake the outbreak as weakness or panic, a symbolic excess to shore up ebbing relative advantage. The original crusade may have been declared against a solar competitor, but its true target was any form of alternative generation or multiplicity:

ten thousand monsters therein dwells
Misshaped, unlike themselves, and like naught else.
- Jerusalem Delivered

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