A Clockwork Heart of Darkness
Friday, 07 August 2009
By *CAPTAIN_AUSTRALIA*
In the famous modernist novel, Howard's Heart ofGreed, we encounter the completely disorienting
and unspeakably horrible, but in the absence of
any real basis for hope. So Howard remains a
symbol of an intense and hopeless national
despair, and like a boiling hot enema he's alive
with malignant threat. Notice that the free
market's latest ritual is to be sprayed with the
hellfire juices of Economic Stimulus.
The power of the state operates to invade personal
boundaries, and then it marks the psychic skin of
each individual with an application of monstrous
intent. Social violence must be universal, for
there must be no possibility of failure.
Dystopias viewed through the slippery and elusive
representation of human idiocy reveal craven
conformity. They invade through the very texture
of corruption and dishonesty, and they are able to
peel back the mental skin to expose the love of
violence and delusion. Material for nervous
apprehension is lurking everywhere.
Those who lived by lies, secrets, and
self-distortion, found freedom is petrified by
fawning conformity. The puppet people were being
called by something destructive, totally
parasitical, and utterly unsustainable. I somehow
knew, deep down in my soul, that the sharp
instruments reducing us to physical submission
were spawned by the dreams and visions of central
bankers.
A tiny bit of entropy in the morning can be more
efficient and effective than the dark gloom of the
Great Australian Dream. Incorporation of
contradictions over an infinitely expanding span
of time leads us to a massive landscape of
degeneracy and delusion. The market research
reports say everyone likes unobtainable prizes.
What is the core of this disease, the thing that
makes us insane? I personally do not know, yet I
could sometimes see the black, hidden horror at
the very heart of the world. Liberty, slim and
seductive, keeps always just ahead of our
afflictions, so the forbidden fruit of unpalatable
truth remains out of reach.
The vegetable folk will remember the terrors of
Howardism eventually, all in good time, and
meanwhile they have no cause to feel actual alarm.
But behind the black social mask of death lurk
stores of accumulated punishment which will
probably be very dreadful for those who live by
the disease of insane dogmas. The magic of
technological necrophilia lures the faithful with
its mysterious fascination to the terminal stage
of bestiality.
