Found Imagery.

As is plainly evident from its cover, the main thesis of this book suggests that Big Foot is a) real, b) psychic, and c) somehow connected to the UFO enigma. One can only assume The Psychic Sasquatch and their UFO Connection preaches to a choir of believers in the paranormal, and has won over few sceptical readers.

"How can you let this go on?"
At about 3.05 this already bizarre Star Trek clip turns into an absolute riot of weirdness, and possibily one of the most remarkable cliff-hangers in the history of episodic narrative:

Archaeological Excavations of the Modern City Part 1.

It is often argued that habit alone constitutes the criteria by which we divide that which is self-evidently sensible, rational, and hence normative in human affairs, and that, on the other hand, which is outrageous, bizarre, or outright perverse. The social norms by which any society conducts itself are imposed from without, by a combination of those elements who control the society, and the fact of that order existing already in history, which leads in turn to the habitual experience of one order as opposed to any other. We are all aware of the extreme example, vouchsafed in the person of the obsessive compulsive, of individuals who maintain habits which are alternatively superfluous, nonsensical, or completely harmful to the person in question. We must also be aware that the obsessive compulsive, left to his own devices, will tend to regard his outre compulsions as merely those chores and activities necessitated by the ordinary active existence. We are lead from this to entertain at least the possibility that whole societies may become subject to an acute neurosis; that whole nations may become self-reinforcing communities held together by a shared corpus of delusion, beginning with that familiar chestnut which is ever the handmaiden of all delusional systems: I'm not crazy. Note the powerful argument marshaled by Holdenstrat, the crazed German idealist, in his masterwork On the Impossibility of Ever Definitively Establishing the Sanity of Oneself, or any Other ( the secondary clause of which has been deemed by many a superfluous exercise, in the light of Holdenstrat's previous "manifesto of pure idealism" On the Impossibility of Ever Definitively Establishing the very Existence of any Other): a) the most insane people are characterised by the complete conviction of their own sanity, b) hence there is no essential difference between the experience of sanity or insanity, c) a persistent vigilance with regard to one's sanity is commonly called paranoia, and invariably the by-product, or precursor, to a milder form of insanity. Hence, according to c), any vigorous attempt to establish one's sanity to a satisfactory degree is a self-defeating measure, since it often leads to insanity, and following a) and b), has no chance of success anyway. (Holdenstrat went insane in his later years, believing himself to be a victim of an ancient conspiracy of beautiful Amazonian women, who had worked since time immemorial to suppress the insights of German idealism. The discovery of giant female footprints outside Holdenstrat's home in the aftermath of his death is regarded by most sober commentators as little more than an intriguing coincidence.)

We must then except that this whole world, both in its basic physical construction, and no less so in the complex social organisms that have gradually evolved upon the surface of this earthly petri dish, is an order imposed from without. Mr. Charles Fort and Mr. HP Lovecraft have been bold enough in the past to question whether the whole edifice of the physical universe is itself in any fashion a rational or sane entity; whether these ideas are merely man's fond, foolish dreams, the quaint fragments we have always been shoring, in some form or another, against the eventual dissolution of all things. I will content myself, for the moment, with questioning the sanity of our forms of social organisation, our way of life, to give it its distinctly modern, trans-Atlantic nomenclature. Our way of life is an complex abundance of peculiar habit and custom, which only the rust of familiarity renders normative. Witness the game of tennis: the crowds watching rapt at the repetitious to and fro of the ball from one racket to the other; the Amazonian shriek of the female tennis player splitting the silence as though locked in some prolonged and loveless congress; finally, in some kind of weirdly concentrated bacchanal of appreciation, the crowd strike their palms together in unison, producing an abrasive sound and a spectacle most portentous to the uninitiated. Is there any sense pertaining whatsoever in these strange games that mesmerize us, this veritable underworld of strange fears that silently haunt our minds? Is there geometry, harmony, or beauty of any kind in these vast mechanical architectures we ourselves haunt like ghosts?

It is with these surmises in mind that I present an extract from that most puzzling and remarkable text Archaeological Excavations of the Modern City. The Excavations is a text of notoriously dubious providence, and the controversy over its authorship rages unabated today. In 1949, it was submitted to various London publishers by the horticulturalist, bird fancier, and self-proclaimed extraterrestrial "contactee" Cedric Bulmer-Cavendish. Bulmer-Cavendish claimed he had received the manuscript from his friend Orthon, a Venusian who had travelled in a flying saucer to the London of the 21st century, and recorded his impressions as a kind of warning to the men of the 1950's. It was eventually published in 1951 by the New Lemurian Press, a small outfit which served effectively as a vanity publisher for the decaying remnants of the Theosophy movement, and was followed in 1953 by The Venusian Dawn, a description of idyllic, communal life in the jungles of Venus. Bulmer-Cavendish immediately incurred the ire of the botanist, journalist, scholar of comparative philology, and occasional drunkard Bugle Bulmer-Buttredge. (Bulmer-Buttredge had once been an enthusiastic member of the Society for Psychical Research, until he became bitterly disillusioned with the paranormal, stating in 1919: "I hereby declare myself a veritable Antichrist and nemesis to all table tappers, all purveyors of ectoplasmic cheese cloth, all mixers of Theosophical gruel, indeed to every species of fantastical nonsense extant." This was in sharp contrast to his earlier statement in 1912: "I am hereby offering my services as a veritable David against the Goliath of accepted scientific dogma; indeed my sling is poised to slay every commonsensical assumption about reality extant.") Of Venusian Dawn, Bulmer-Buttredge had the following to say: "It is patently clear that this Venusian Shangri-La, with all its property (even WOMEN-FOLK) held in common, is nothing less than the grim reductio ad absurdum of FABIAN SOCIALISM." Regarding the Excavations, Bulmer-Buttredge made a convincing argument that Bulmer-Cavendish was almost certainly its author, based upon the strong similarities between it and Reflections on Life in the Abysmal Anthill, a polemic against modern urban life which Bulmer-Cavendish had written under the pseudonym of Wolfgang Marx, while a member of the Fabian Society.

In time, the controversy dissipated. In 1957, Bulmer-Cavendish attempted to publish one further book, Slave of the Giantesses: My Journey to Venus. In this work, avowedly his own, Bulmer-Cavendish claimed that Orthon returned, and conveyed him by flying saucer to the fabled jungles of Venus. He spends a year trekking by himself through the gargantuan tropical Venusian rain forests, until he is finally incarcerated by a tribe of Amazonian women, who promptly relinquish their religion of ritualistic lesbianism, and make him their largely willing sex slave. The work is lost, but was described in its day as pornographic, obscene, and completely unpublishable. Even the New Lemurian Press refused to publish it, and Bulmer-Cavendish became a laughing stock among London's rapidly dwindling community of Theosophists and Contactees. (Coincidentally, our old friend Holdenstrat read the work in manuscript form, and claimed "as a bizarre amalgam of Edgar Rice Burroughs and the Marquis de Sade, it is not without literary merit". He requested a copy for "private use and further study".) In his later years, Cedric became utterly destitute, as did Bulmer-Buttredge, and both men spent their declining years as virtually the sole patrons of the London public house the Dockside Maiden, and the Source of her Ruin, a Rude Spaniard. As an extraordinary new decade of vitality dawned on London, both spent their evenings sitting at opposite ends of the Dockside Maiden, and the Source of her Ruin, a Rude Spaniard bar, endlessly rehashing the old controversies of their Psychical and Fabian pasts. One waited for the return of Orthon in his gleaming flying saucer; the other for long delayed grant from the Foreign Office.

Found Images: Cattle and the Paranormal.

Since the pioneering days of Charles Fort, cattle have played a significant, albeit deeply puzzling, role in the Bigger Picture of mysterious phenomenon. Indeed, one of Fort's less cheerful theories held that we ourselves are no more than a form of lifestock, bred for utility by our advanced cosmic neigbours. Meanwhile, in the sixties and seventies, the cattle/ET relationship exhibited far more disturbing characteristics than that suggested in the Sony ad above.

This picture depicts the life-cycle of Black Helicopters. I found it on a website which alleged, I can only assume sardonically, that Black Helicopters are a form of nanobiological living organisation, bred to serve the New World Order.

Masterpieces of Deviant Imagery 1: Sean Connery In Zardoz.

John Boorman's Zardoz is an incomparable, alchemical masterpiece of Seventies cinema. A few more years of economic and environmental upheaval, and this species of nappy-clad barbarian could become all too real.

The Ancient Kind Conclusion: The Theme Park That Slaughtered its Patrons.

The Kind appeared in our history once again, in the fertile crescent of the Tigris and Euphrates, at the very birth of our civilisation. There, they visited the dreams of the men of Ubaid, Sumer, Akkad, and Babylon, and fashioned an identity for themselves as the Anunnaki. Belief in this race of three hundred earth and underworld dwelling deities grew so prevalent and dogmatic that they became flesh and blood giants, and the Ancient Kind lived for a time on earth in towering temples and ziggurats constructed by their human slaves. The Sumerians eventually ousted the Ancient Kind, not with thermonuclear weapons this time, but through the less environmentally destructive expedient of agnosticism, satire and the mock-heroic mode. ( The Olympian deities, similarly, were vanquished from the earth by means of such technologies. All expressions of sarcastic humour, free-thought, and scepticism are repugnant to the Kind, whose powers are largely dependant on the cultivation of rigid certainty systems and controlled dogmas.)

It was during this period that the Ancient Kind began a process of inter-breeding between their Anunnaki hosts and human females. (This programme has continued, via incubai, succubi, the Good People of fairy lore, the Old Hag and other entities common to the experience of sleep paralysis, right down to the Greys of modern times.) The Annunki programme, by far the most successful of these endeavors, produced a race of hybrids who have maintained a hidden and influential presence on this planet ever since. The offspring of the Ancient Kind possess a flesh and blood physiology essentially similar to our own, except that it is endlessly pliable. Though able to assume virtually any anatomical form, this hidden race tends to divide its time between the human appearance, and that of a reptilian humanoid, which they have adopted as their true identity. The reptilians, many of whom have assumed positions of power in the industrial, political, and entertainment complex, are the overlords of a variety of evil, subterrain cults which have have sprang up around the Ancient Kind. Some avow that the Reptilians have infiltrated the upper echelons of virtually every significant secretive organisation that has ever existed, including the Orphic mystery schools, the Knights Templar, Bavarian Illuminati, Council on Foreign Relations, Church of Scientology, and indeed a further selection of organisations whose activity is so elusive and shadowy that even the most obsessive scholars of invisible cabals have no inkling of their existence. (There are organisations which are so secretive that even their own rulers are not informed of the existence of the group, and given no indication of their participation within it. Instead, these randomly chosen individuals issue their decrees unconsciously, by virtue of what color shirt was worn on a particular day, what book was browsed in a bookstore on a certain afternoon, and so on. It has been theorized that the true secret rulers of this world are ourselves, with no knowledge whatever of the extreme gravity of our slightest decisions.)

These, then, are all the essential particulars of the invasion of the human subconscious, and occasionally our earth itself, by a parasitic, highly virulent interdimensional species. The Archetypes the Kind have utilised have constantly evolved in tandem with the technological media by which these archetypes are dispersed. All channels of communication have been infiltrated and appropriated by the invasion of the image; no human activity superseding that of sensation and rudimentary thought is innocent. The Kind whispered to our ancestors in the caves, and lead them to abstract ceaselessly mutable vagaries of vision into static images crudely daubed in ochre on the walls. (Later the Kind whispered to Plato in dreams, convincing him utterly of the counter-intuitive fallacy that those drawings possessed a greater degree of reality than the mutable vagaries of energy that they sought to emulate.) When men spoke, the Kind transmuted those sounds into symbols, first of a hieroglyphic nature, and latterly the pure, compressed abstractions of the alphabet. All this facilitated their ultimate design: the unstoppable viral transmission of control images. The association of the Hebrew god with the word or logos is a latent admission of intent; the naming power granted to Adam is a ruse. The Ancient Kind are the timeless, tireless agents of division and entropy; their enemies are scattered mystics and visionaries who have transcended all invented images of the world, and apprehended its reality as a self-creating and indivisible entity. The foot-soldiers in this war are non-believers, satirists, paranoiacs, contrarians, anti-authoritarians, and all who prod restlessly at the Leviathanic carcass of certainty, wherever it should lay its rotting folds.

Imagine for a moment that that Door, which separates us from the Ancient Kind, were opened wide........creatures of errant belief of every age and culture run wild.......in the forests, fauns and satyrs frolic with Sasquatch, happily barbecuing the innards of campers, roasting luckless back to nature yuppies on spits.........in the cities, fascist cyborg policemen, mutant alligators, bouffant disco savants who emerged from the words of songs and Saturday night reveries, all spring through the Door and gorge themselves on commuters, foodies, and the fashionably androgynous............in the skies, the sun is blotted out by wheeling droves of Olympian gods, Japanese dragons, gleaming UFOs, and all the comets and meteors promised us in a thousand disaster films.........the human race is surely doomed, its only hope lies in its technology........then, in a shattering twist worthy of second-tier Stephen King, the Coming of the Ancient Kind causes an Electro-Magnetic Shockwave, or Something, which instantly causes all household appliances, cars, computers, Luxury Items, and even certain varieties of fashionable attire, to come alive, and subject their former human masters to an orgy of violence...........cars turn major motor-ways and city streets into insane, fatalistic games of dodge-em', with stricken passengers subjected to hideous music from their car radios and i-pods as their cars collide in Jackson Pollack bursts of colour and viscera.......microwave ovens prowl crablike around suburban homes, capturing beloved pets and frying them before their horrified owners.......

in time, all human life is extinguished.
while the stars blink out
and the vast interstellar void
returns to its howling crucible
of primordial chaos
the earth resembles an arid theme park
whose many attractions and simulations have
slaughtered all the patrons,
and continue to wheel about
with all the fervid semblance
of vitality which we gave
them
while the stars blink out

Anatomical Differences Between Goblin and Man Leave No Room for Confusion.

The Ancient Kind Part 2: The Invasion of the Image.

We are obliged, therefore, at the start, both to establish the existence of this other Kind and to examine its nature and the mode of its Being.
Plotinus, Enneads.

The Ancient Kind are composed of the elemental stuff of universes, frozen in a Protean, larval condition. Their mode of Being lies so far beyond our conceptual frameworks, that it is difficult to adequately convey a sense of Them. They possess an advanced intelligence, but not what we would regard as a personality. Their Mind is an insectile hive consciousness which can create endless miniature copies of itself. The closest human approximations we might apply as to the character of the Ancient Kind would lie in the unrestrained appetites of infants, or the blank cruelty and irrationalism of the sociopath and the schizophrenic. Their nature is infinite morphology and flux. The Neoplatonist philosopher Plotinus, who seems to have intuited the existence and nature of the Ancient Kind, provides us with a good description in his early treatise "On the Two Kinds of Matter": "The Matter of this realm is all things in turn, a new entity in every separate case, so that nothing is permanent and one thing ceaselessly pushes another out of being."

It is not possible in this condition for the Ancient Kind to take up permanent habitation in our universe, and hence their visits are sporadic and very brief in duration. However, the Kind have evolved a complex colonisation strategy, involving the creation of host-bodies in our reality. As we have already argued, that reality is constructed via the medium of belief; hence, the Ancient Kind attempt to gain a foothold in our reality by creating and manipulating our belief systems. The host-bodies which the Kind have created for themselves are that common store of iconographic, emotionally resonant images which Jung has called the Archetypes; the ultimate purpose of the Games the Kind have played with us throughout history is to make us believe in the material existence of those Archetypes.

The Kind construct the Archetypes out of material culled from our dreams. In dreams, consciousness relinquishes its moorings in the illusionary temporal/spatial matrix of sense experience, and fully realizes its capacity as the creator of that matrix. Hence dreams, and the ingestion of certain potent psychoactive botanicals, represent a quantum communication channel between different dimensions. It is via this channel that the Ancient Kind ceaselessly commune with us, and create their iconic hosts. An Archetype is a particular kind of idea, and requires some elucidation. First of all, they are something like an unwilled act of artistic creation. They absorb a vast amount of communal experience, of a culture's subconscious fears and longings, and refine these down to a figure, to an extraordinarily virulent image. It is important to note that Archetypes do not require any kind of external transmission. They become part of that store of faculties and incipient mental powers which is transmitted from generation to generation; that is, they are recorded onto the genetic code itself. The second most noteworthy quality about Archetypes is their extraordinary power over the societies who have participated in their creation. People tend to react to Archetypes in either abject terror, or utter, unquestioning reverence. There is no individual person, however wise or beautiful, no merely rational idea however brilliantly extrapolated, no vista of nature which can subjugate the human imagination to the same degree as the Archetypes.





When the Ancient Kind make their occasional incursions into our reality, human beings have no perceptual models with which to process the information. Hence, people who encounter the Ancient Kind experience a profound ontological shock. Their brains lapse into a default setting, and process their experience of the Ancient Kind in whatever archetypal forms and patterns predominate in that particular era and culture. If the belief in a particular Archetype becomes widespread and prevalent enough, reality is fundamentally altered, and the Archetype becomes an actual physical body which the Kind can utilise as a host in order to exist permanently in our universe. This is their ultimate goal; hence all paranormal encounters throughout history, including those with pagan deities, ghosts, faeries, Christian icons, and, more recently, with visiting interstellar aliens, are all staged, theatrical set-pieces, designed to inculcate belief systems, and pre-emptively establish control mechanisms for the invading Kind.

In the enactment of this invasion, the Kind are subject to certain constraints. Their ability to manifest themselves in our dimension is always temporary, and can only occur in certain geographical locations. Those locations, for reasons far too obscure for merely human mentation to scry, have a kind of thin membrane separating them from other dimensions, and hence become hotspots for paranormal phenomenona. (I need hardly inform the seasoned scholar of the paranormal that Glastonbury and Avebury in Great Britain, the Nile Valley in Egypt, and the alien-haunted New Mexico desert of North America certainly rank among those eldritch locations.)

Yet, despite these constraints, the Ancient Kind have attained a temporary ascendancy over this earth on two occasions in its history. Many barely conceivable aeons past, the highly advanced civilisation of land-faring dolphins who constructed the fabled, sprawling metropolis of Atlantis fell to the Ancient Kind, who were then operating under the guise of a race of winged, air-borne shark deities which the Atlantean dolphins had worshipped in the infancy of their civilisation. The Atlanteans had attained a sufficient degree of technological ingenuity to produce thermonuclear weapons; these thoroughly ousted the Ancient Kind, with the rather less fortunate consequence of utterly annihilating their civilisation in the process. (I need not inform the marine biologist, or indeed any reader casually acquainted with the varieties of aquatic life, what became of the remaining Atlantean dolphins. Some avow that with the coming of 2012, our civilisation will be utterly destroyed, and those human beings that remain will scurry into the bowels of the earth, there to devolve into a race of blind, degenerated half-men, half-moles.)
Continued shortly.