Much has been written about the disappearance of the Mayas. We have been doing a bit of research ourselves, and discovered the truth. They stole wormhole secrets from the ambassadors of an alien civilisation and, through them, became beings of light.
They now live in a set of parallel universes stacked like a deck of tarot cards, bookended by the big bang on one side, the Heat Death of the Universe on the other.
They move through these universes like commuters of the quantum underground, and organise crazy techno parties in the vicinity of momentous events, with DJs kidnapped from all over the space-time continuum.
At the end of the gig, they do all sorts of ghastly things to the DJs. They send them spinning into the heart of a Supernova. They pull Ark of the Covenant facemelt moves on them. They devour their hearts.
Except for one time, when MUTWAWA played. He comes from a warmongering civilisation that one day will enslave mankind. He likes Green Velvet and Crash Course in Science. He is badass.
He was so banging they let him go. Planet Earth is screwed.
In these days of information overload and constant friction between different social, cultural and economic factions, it’s very easy to fall into clichés, assuming that those who are different from us live in monolithic environments where everyone believes the same thing, rather than complexly negotiated realities which are much less coherent than they may appear from the outside.
Take the Black Lodge. What do you know about it? Yes, it’s a place decorated with crimson curtains and geometrical floor patterns where everyone speaks backwards, contorts in weird ways and grins a lot. Yes, it’s a place of evil and fear, spirits escape from there and go on rampages in our world, there have been casualties. Shut them down, you say, block the gates.
But, have you really gone into the depths of the Black Lodge? If you had, you would have realised that there is much beauty and holiness in its malignancy, a primitive musk that explains its allure. They even award fellowships to promising artists from our own plane of reality once in a while, to go and dip their polymathic toes in the wellspring of darkness. Graham Philip D’Ancey was one of the beneficiaries of this programme.
His Sacred Project EP in Minimal Wave Records has been fucking up our headspace for several years now with its Umbran/Suspirian G-Funk spirit dance primitivism. It’s got a smile in its face, it makes us run.