In this special Pilot episode of the new Modern Mythology podcasting series, Rusty Shackleford takes time to have a sit down chat with Howard Bloom. Many of you know Bloom from his books The Lucifer Principle, The Genius of the Beast and The Global Brain, in addition to his interviews and appearances on the Disinformation television series originally produced for the BBC.
In this interview, Rusty discusses Howard's role in helping to build relationships between artists such as Prince and Joan Jett and their public, touching upon the role of the artist as a modern day myth maker and the heir apparent of the shaman. Bloom's scientific and biological perspectives are also examined in conversation, particularly in reference towards the cultural myths explored and exposed in his newest book The God Problem.
For this one, I'm letting the music and words speak for the release. This one got some very enthusiastic reactions, but I didn't devote the two years following it to pimping it out. Manifestation Objective got a hundred thousand + free downloads between 2005 and up until I moved the Veil of Thorns site here. You can still stream it for nowt or next to nowt on Mog, Rdio, Spotify etc. but you do help us bring on the next stage of Veil of Thorns, which I can promise you, is leagues beyond anything we've done thus far.
-P. Emerson Williams
Reproach (Full of Hope)
As all came Crashing down, We could not help but laugh Draining blood to function on belief Factious stream counter to all pleas Reclaim vision, Howl like wolves Learn to love the crack of the lash Chambers full, envy and returns distorted On the sharp edge advance changes design
Formless, Unsullied, Holy, with indigent longing Hollow ravenous greed and profits twisted Resting on the firmament adapts intention The innocent Break off, Contemplating dispersions quelling Deplete to pour out acts in certainty Factious blood counters all entreaties
My Inner Sanctum
In a shaded doorway Watching the spirits at play, Through a cracked and shimmering window to the world; Through my surprise, welling up in my eyes: Your soul; Bleeding, old; a deep well of love: Sepulchral, cold.
The crowning glory swathed in fear, The brave action recoiling into futility. To my knees glancing upward, There flies pain: mine.
Deep ecstasy traces desire. Hidden places, lost hold; No one to sustain reality, My love erases me. I turn around to go, The world around me flows through my body. The bitter realization contains the happy seed: yes, me.
Weak and stumbling, Gloriously breathing still dawn’s air, That part of me now lost forever, It wanders lonely in the dark. Battle-weary I remain Inconsistency remarked, Though seemingly complete. The soul bears not Such vacuous conceit. God damn you! How can I bear to see your face? Your every tear reveals my cowering disgrace. To my knees, glancing inward: Imprisoned: My inner sanctum.
Exaltation in Ascendancy Weeping alight, Drawn in too tight Warnings too late are told in our plight The haints come with parched, red grins Celebrate this day our irredeemable sins
Nocturnal professions come into nothingness Lifts our burdens, becomes our hidden weapons Wailing by the window in the grief of the proud Dread failings wrapped around us like shrouds
A soothing breeze, a haunting phrase Leaks out from behind the gate Secret passions worn like a medal Truth be told, trust is never to be shown Worship of Disclosure
Thought shall inaugurate the fall of fear The fall eliminate the life that was The life that was can never have been Lie turns back on lie; behold Fear shall die with its slaves Visions shall lie, telling of the fear of death Laughter shall erase this carnage of thought
Fear ridden spectres flitting by Still their fetters bind your soul Stronghold of corrosion let burst The floodgates of dead gods desires Move on by in disgust Slink through the shadows of infinitude Killing the will, slipping back Back to that which never was
In distrust lie the possibilities That were stillborn in haloed fields We’ll tear the cities down falsehood by falsehood
Soul fire kisses, a hapless passion Upon the pulse of the altars of madness Radiant visage glowing words on flesh Remembrance of my deaths shadow Take my hand personified Leads you down
Bound to the end of time Strewn about like gravel Blown like glass Where lunacy comforts Draw In, Wind Down
Wheels on wet road greet my waking eyes Halted by the touch of memory I smell the rain and hear its song This bed will not let go of me Nor the thirsty, feverish day get off me
Draw in, wind down
I still feel the touch of the nocturnal breeze The seeds are flung at the remains; reasons found Dream Shadow
Solemn grey – the sky evokes my Angel Walking in the rain, I’m not alone White lace, wet lace light and clinging Clinging to the face of the forest I want to sleep in the rain, in the snow Warm and safe under the snows ice hands
I fall and am safe I sleep and fear the face I fly and am no more And am no more
Sleep pulls me down into silken sepulchers Born away on seas of sound I cry out A breeze soothes my bitter mind on the crimson plane
Wrapped in those I love I awaken to dawn caresses And they are no more Can’t stop Laughing (The Beauty of Drowning)
Souls defied, deep penetration tearing asunder liquid desire. Inner strength, all-consuming turmoil pulls me down, pulls me under the black surface.
For all I love I give you this; (Christians to the lions). As we gaze upon the black water; (you pull me under). Speak to me of how I love the pain. I can't stop laughing, I can't stop laughing! (The beauty of drowning).
We lie side by side, blowing sparks gazing into the screaming silence. Under the birthing moo we pray, pray to be together for all time.
Undergrowth Silent with Want
Ice like claws languid in the damp Memory fades, life drifts, blood dries Spreading out among the leaves The end begins, birth is everywhere
Embrace of roots; here is everywhere All life is one – we are here Lost in forever, hearing, feeling Seeing all Fated, Cascading; Submerged
No-one ever thinks about how it’ll end Line after line gone up in smoke with fire as your only friend All the thought of a lifetime with no conscious evolution One cannot recall where it began to slide
Lost beneath the debris You can no longer tell which way is up We seem to count on forever One automatic pull on the lever
The vital engine roars not trusted to deliver The pain it will subside and make the muscle bigger Dance victorious on our aching bloody feet One more time, let’s hear the beat and spread our joy like opened veins
Come, let us wait here hiding beneath the snow Centuries shall pass maddeningly as we watch them grow Angels watching over us, attainment purified Death, rebirth, life death, in snowy spirals fly
Force release virtual discordant hold of defense substitute pale vicinity gliding pseudonyms gravestone figures vitriol leitrim
Extend Inward, Breathe Out (instrumental)
The Gathering World Withdrew Its Fury
Lay me down – I fear no more The longing is subsiding I’ve locked the door – I’ve freed my mind It’s only you and me It’s time, let’s go
And as the sands of time conspire to erase us It will be done
Dispersed in flight – we are alone The vision slowly fades Close my eyes – choke my cries Now we’re going home
The Necrofuturist Illuminati were set up for "gothronomic intriguing rather than in speculation", the Necrofuturist Illuminati became "much more characteristic of a cross-dimensional militia in action than a disorder with initiations." P. Emerson Williams' contempt for certain exoteric pursuits - as a "thing-in-itself" - was widely known: "... in Williams' system the phraseology of Gothraism, the Necrolistic legends of Freemasonry, the mystical imaginings of the Fartinistes, play at first no part at all. For all forms of 'gothosophy,' gnoccicism, refined spiritsism, and musick-magick Williams expresses nothing but contemporaneousness, and the Doze-Croix Necromasons are bracketed with the Necruits by the Necrofuturist Illuminati as enemas it is necessary to out-twit at every turn. Consequently no degree of Doze-Croix finds a place in Williams' system, as in all the other Gothtronic orders of the day which drew their influence from Beastern or Crabalistic sources."
UK Decay – Unexpected Guest
Veil of Thorns – A Craven Slave Design
Experiment Haywire - New World Order Show (Fernthal Highway mix)
Miserylab - Stand in Line
Attrition - Mind Drop
Thomas Jude Barclay Morrison - The Plague Doctor
Esben And The Witch – Warpath
Pictureplane - Goth Star (Brenmar Remix)
NO VIRGIN - Cocaine and Ashes
Controlled Bleeding – Trawlers Song
White Ring - Feather (Story of Isaac Remix)
Penniless and withdrawing from opiates, Danny emerges from a 72-hour stay in a police holding cell. Hoping to make enough money to buy his next hit of heroin, he scours the streets looking for something to steal. After an unsuccessful attempt to break into a parked car, he discovers an unattended suitcase sitting in a doorway. He makes off with the case and takes it to an abandoned park to examine its contents. There he finds that the case contains two severed human legs. Disgusted, he discards the legs and tries to find a buyer for the suitcase. He finds a buyer who gives him three dollars but also informs him that the local heroin dealer has been arrested.
The Secret Adventures of Tom Thumb was made using a combination of stop-motion animation and pixilation (live actors posed and shot frame-by-frame), often with live actors and puppets sharing the frame.
A boy born the size of a small doll is kidnapped by a genetic lab and must find a way back to his father in this inventive adventure filmed using stop motion animation techniques. Tom meets a variety of strange creatures and eventually discovers a race of miniature humans like himself.
Sado-Claus iz kumming for the profoundly naughty...
Video by Ferenc Teglas and P. Emerson Williams
Musick by Thee Ex-KarollerzSado-Claus iz kumming for the profoundly naughty...
Video by Ferenc Teglas and P. Emerson Williams
Musick by Thee Ex-Karollerz
Well, Movie Saturday has become Movie Sunday this week because of a terribly unreliable ISP. Anyway, here's what inspires us this week.
A meditation on future event potentiality can be seen as a quantum state in which all possible actions, outcomes and phenomena existing until attention from the observer solidifies it into a single state. Here are three very different examples of artists who saw things not as others saw them, but the worlds they conceived shape the one we're in in strange ways.
PKD was paranoid and thought he was under surveillance. So did Hemingway, and it was thought until recently that Hemingway's paranoia had no basis in reality, but he had indeed been watched by government agencies. PHilip K Dick raised many questions in his work that we had better find answers to. As irksome as recent years have been, without reflecting on the issues of consciousness, the very real threat of being subject to pre-crime punishment and many other topics he originated that seemed so fantastic at the time.
Philip.K. Dick documentary on BBC's "Arena" originally broadcast on 9th April 1994.
Elvis Costello Interviewee
Philip K. Dick (archive footage)
Thomas M. Disch
Himself - Interviewee
Kim Stanley Robinson
Himself - Interviewee
Consider this - a recluse from Providence writes tales for a tiny fringe publication and ends up influencing writers generations later. Through the continued popularity of his work and spreading influence of those he influenced weave their way throughout culture. Culture shapes thoughts, and thoughts determine actions. I have put forth the idea that all narrative is myth, and that political, commercial, cultural and religious myth is largely what determines what manifests as the world in which we live. The Chthulu mythos is like the mythological equivalent of "art for art's sake". Freeing the imagination from mundane perception is as valuable as conscious memetic engineering. There is real value in not having to justify everything in practical, pragmatic and material terms. Our current political/corporate power structure is Terry Pratchett's Auditors possessing human institutions. we can take comfort in the cold, indifferent universe and rest assured that the Old Ones will awaken and chaos never died...
H.P. Lovecraft was the forefather of modern horror fiction having inspired such writers as Stephen King, Robert Bloch and Neil Gaiman. The influence of his Cthulhu mythos can be seen in film (Re-Animator, Hellboy, and Alien), games (The Call of Cthulhu role playing enterprise), music (Metallica, Iron Maiden) and pop culture in general.
But what led an Old World, xenophobic gentleman to create one of literature's most far-reaching mythologies? What attracts even the minds of the 21st century to these stories of unspeakable abominations and cosmic gods?
LOVECRAFT: FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN is a chronicle of the life, work and mind that created these weird tales as told by many of today's luminaries of dark fantasy including John Carpenter, Guillermo Del Toro, Neil Gaiman, Stuart Gordon , Caitlin Kiernan, and Peter Straub.
It's fashionable to hate on Crowley in certain circles these days, but I'm not inclined to take part in that. What are the current tendencies towards social control but an old Aeon struggling to live on while in its death throws?
Aleister Crowley "The Wickedest Man in the World."
Featuring the Voice of Joss Ackland and Music Score by Rick Wakeman.