British ghost month.
Halloween 31st October marks the start of British Ghost month...
The word month is inaccurate.
The month begins with a trickle of trick or treaters
A very domestic affair.
Small children, watched over by their parents represent the irritating little things that trouble us in life; like a DVD that will not load, a leaking shoe, mold on the walls.
Tooth ache.
Running out of toilet paper.
Bad sound crew at a gig.
You know what I mean.
Halloween with its inedible pumpkins bleaches out into a sunshine hoard of the undead- the zombie shuffle.
The zombie hoard represent the myriad brain-damaged, mindless and pathological forces that assail us and the force exerted by mindless systems, the madness of a crowd in panic and the horror of the crush. The zombie hoard are us..
Someone undid the seven sturdy gates of Irkalla
The dead outnumber the living...
A week latter...
Red paper poppies appear
The ghosts are the faceless, warrior dead.
The sleeping protectors of Albion's shore.
Those who died in war; but not all those who died in war.
Not all war...
Only the ones 'we' fought in.
The first sign of their arrival are the paper poppies.
Men in uniforms, wearing medals stand or sit.
Selling poppies.
But not the white ones.
Mid-December
The next slew of ghosts arrive
In shadows and ash.
These are the most powerful ghosts.
Ancestors.
Relatives...
Friends...
Guilt
Remorse
Loneliness
Christmas is a strange time.
The predominant theme is ice.
Images everywhere portray the land transformed.
Clean air
Swift and smooth...
Crisp and fresh
To accentuate the difference between Christmas and the burial ground.
The predominant image, the glitter
the bird: robin.
And flame- domestic fire- tame as candle or burning in the hearth.
The predominant saying
'Christmas is for the children'
The sky meanwhile is a dull grey and the land soggy and damp.
The world nothing like the promise
It is a time of feast
But we feast all year round
Of drinking to excess...
But we do that anyway (see zombie hoard).
A bipolar festival
Burning anticipation
Drowning in sorrow
Projected upon the ones shut out of the living party
The people who used to eat, drink and laugh with us...
A time when there is too much...
But never enough..
Children...are encouraged to become living hungry ghosts.
The preta.
Never satisfied, perpetually wanting more and more and more....
Japanese prayers for the Preta.
The word month is inaccurate.
The month begins with a trickle of trick or treaters
A very domestic affair.
Small children, watched over by their parents represent the irritating little things that trouble us in life; like a DVD that will not load, a leaking shoe, mold on the walls.
Tooth ache.
Running out of toilet paper.
Bad sound crew at a gig.
You know what I mean.
Halloween with its inedible pumpkins bleaches out into a sunshine hoard of the undead- the zombie shuffle.
The zombie hoard represent the myriad brain-damaged, mindless and pathological forces that assail us and the force exerted by mindless systems, the madness of a crowd in panic and the horror of the crush. The zombie hoard are us..
Someone undid the seven sturdy gates of Irkalla
The dead outnumber the living...
A week latter...
Red paper poppies appear
The ghosts are the faceless, warrior dead.
The sleeping protectors of Albion's shore.
Those who died in war; but not all those who died in war.
Not all war...
Only the ones 'we' fought in.
The first sign of their arrival are the paper poppies.
Men in uniforms, wearing medals stand or sit.
Selling poppies.
But not the white ones.
November the 11th.
Mid-December
The next slew of ghosts arrive
In shadows and ash.
These are the most powerful ghosts.
Ancestors.
Relatives...
Friends...
Guilt
Remorse
Loneliness
Christmas is a strange time.
The predominant theme is ice.
Images everywhere portray the land transformed.
Clean air
Swift and smooth...
Crisp and fresh
To accentuate the difference between Christmas and the burial ground.
The predominant image, the glitter
the bird: robin.
And flame- domestic fire- tame as candle or burning in the hearth.
The predominant saying
'Christmas is for the children'
The sky meanwhile is a dull grey and the land soggy and damp.
The world nothing like the promise
It is a time of feast
But we feast all year round
Of drinking to excess...
But we do that anyway (see zombie hoard).
A bipolar festival
Burning anticipation
Drowning in sorrow
Projected upon the ones shut out of the living party
The people who used to eat, drink and laugh with us...
A time when there is too much...
But never enough..
Children...are encouraged to become living hungry ghosts.
The preta.
Never satisfied, perpetually wanting more and more and more....
Japanese prayers for the Preta.
