ShadowJack
Neurotransmetteur
- Inscrit
- 12 Mai 2007
- Messages
- 46
Ok. This my first topic so please excuse me if there smth wrong. Is there anyone out there that have heard of the guy above? He just kept and kept finding files about all the "strange" shit that happens all around the world. Then he burned all the files he has found and started again. A genius. He got also some interesting teories, but look on wiki for this stuff, i've just approached this enormous mind. Her is the incipit of his first book, it's better than anything I can say.
The Book of the Damned
A PROCESSION of the damned.
By the damned, I mean the excluded.
We shall have a procession of data that Science has excluded.
Battalions of the accursed, captained by pallid data that I have exhumed, will march. You'll read them ?? or
they'll march. Some of them livid and some of them fiery and some of them rotten
Some of them are corpses, skeletons, mummies, twitching, tottering, animated by companions that have been
damned alive. There are giants that will walk by, though sound asleep. There are things that are theorems and
things that are rags: they'll go by like Euclid arm in arm with the spirit of anarchy. Here and there will flit
little harlots. Many are clowns. But many are of the highest respectability. Some are assassins. There are pale
stenches and gaunt superstitions and mere shadows and lively malices: whims and amiabilities. The naïve and
the pedantic and the bizarre and the grotesque and the sincere and the insincere, the profound and the puerile.
A stab and a laugh and the patiently folded hands of hopeless propriety.
The ultra?respectable, but the condemned, anyway.
The aggregate appearance is of dignity and dissoluteness: the aggregate voice is a defiant prayer: but the
spirit of the whole is processional.
The power that has said to all these things that they are damned, is Dogmatic Science.
But they'll march.
The little harlots will caper, and freaks will distract attention, and the clowns will break the rhythm of the
whole with their buffooneries ?? but the solidity of the procession as a whole: the impressiveness of things
that pass and pass and pass, and keep on and keep on and keep on coming.
The irresistibleness of things that neither threaten nor jeer nor defy, but arrange themselves in
mass?formations that pass and pass and keep on passing.
* * *
So, by the damned, I mean the excluded.
But by the excluded I mean that which will some day be the excluding.
Or everything that is, won't be.
And everything that isn't, will be ??
But, of course, will be that which won't be ??
It is our expression that the flux between that which isn't and that which won't be, or the state that is
commonly and absurdly called "existence," is a rhythm of heavens and hells: that the damned won't stay
damned; that salvation only precedes perdition. The inference is that some day our accursed tatterdemalions
will be sleek angels. Then the sub?inference is that some later day, back they'll go whence they came.
The Book of the Damned
A PROCESSION of the damned.
By the damned, I mean the excluded.
We shall have a procession of data that Science has excluded.
Battalions of the accursed, captained by pallid data that I have exhumed, will march. You'll read them ?? or
they'll march. Some of them livid and some of them fiery and some of them rotten
Some of them are corpses, skeletons, mummies, twitching, tottering, animated by companions that have been
damned alive. There are giants that will walk by, though sound asleep. There are things that are theorems and
things that are rags: they'll go by like Euclid arm in arm with the spirit of anarchy. Here and there will flit
little harlots. Many are clowns. But many are of the highest respectability. Some are assassins. There are pale
stenches and gaunt superstitions and mere shadows and lively malices: whims and amiabilities. The naïve and
the pedantic and the bizarre and the grotesque and the sincere and the insincere, the profound and the puerile.
A stab and a laugh and the patiently folded hands of hopeless propriety.
The ultra?respectable, but the condemned, anyway.
The aggregate appearance is of dignity and dissoluteness: the aggregate voice is a defiant prayer: but the
spirit of the whole is processional.
The power that has said to all these things that they are damned, is Dogmatic Science.
But they'll march.
The little harlots will caper, and freaks will distract attention, and the clowns will break the rhythm of the
whole with their buffooneries ?? but the solidity of the procession as a whole: the impressiveness of things
that pass and pass and pass, and keep on and keep on and keep on coming.
The irresistibleness of things that neither threaten nor jeer nor defy, but arrange themselves in
mass?formations that pass and pass and keep on passing.
* * *
So, by the damned, I mean the excluded.
But by the excluded I mean that which will some day be the excluding.
Or everything that is, won't be.
And everything that isn't, will be ??
But, of course, will be that which won't be ??
It is our expression that the flux between that which isn't and that which won't be, or the state that is
commonly and absurdly called "existence," is a rhythm of heavens and hells: that the damned won't stay
damned; that salvation only precedes perdition. The inference is that some day our accursed tatterdemalions
will be sleek angels. Then the sub?inference is that some later day, back they'll go whence they came.
rayer: