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Friday, August 19, 2011

"Do What Thou Wilt"

The Great Fire of London

Amidst all the excitement of the London riots, I not only was reminded of the pressing need to get an iron fence put up in my front yard and more locks for my doors, but I was also reminded of the anarchist elements that seem to hide under the thin veneer of shallow British culture. 
As modern secular Britain is a society of people who lost comprehension of the Divine, it is no small wonder that some bored disenfranchised "youths" decided to use the shooting of a man as an excuse to riot and vandalize their own neighborhoods to their hearts' content. 
Honestly, I'm surprised it hadn't happened sooner. 
Back in the early 1980s, there was a great amount of broo-ha-ha stirred up by Sid Vicious and a legion of punk rockers that foamed up in his wake.  It's a wonder something memorable like this didn't blow up two or three decades ago.
But then again, Western Culture hadn't reverted back into barbarism as savagely as it has now.  In the early 80s, the cynical disrespectful style of young punks of that day was just that--a style.  A simple fad, not a movement or a societal regression.  Most of society held togther in that day, in spite of the fact that Sid Vicious wanted to be an antichrist.  Yet, in this day of 2011, entire generations grow up living completely in the id, a life of pure emotion all the time.  Glued to Blackberries, I-Phones, World of Warcraft, or whatever.  Youth are constantly looking for a source of thoughtless media to keep the Dopamine levels in their brains high.  Nothing at all as creative or fun as punk rockers.
In my mind, it was always the legions of punks who would rise up and conquer.  And so inspired was I by this concept, that I couldn't help but give in to the muses and record the prophetic tale of just what would happnen when the punk rockers of Britain would do in that day of anarchy. 
I realize, of course, that punks shall never rise to the monstrous reputation they earned in those early years of the 1980 decade.  In that day, we imagined Post-Apocalyptica would be infested with such dregs of society, as we saw in the Mad Max movies.  Even to this day, if you play Fallout, you will stumble upon this strange breed of human in the post-nuclear wastes. 
Yet, punks and their like have dwindled in number, and often if you see groups of people dressed in chains or spikes, they are the friendliest people you will ever meet.  I find that to be tastelessly oxymoronic, by the way. 
But a man can hold on to his dreams, can he not?
And so came a tale of a dark sorcerer known as Aleister Crowley, who from his evil lair at lake Loch Ness would send out the brainwashing vibes to all youthful ignorant followers to "Do What Thou Wilt."  Over and over, the scum of Britain would hear those words, until they could not help themselves, and felt compelled to tear the cities apart. 
The only savior against such an evil man, of course, would have to be someone from tradition.  Someone of renown.  Some undying legend, unafraid of the petty sneers and barbaric clumsy attacks of young ruffians.  And it was then that I realized that only King Arthur would do. 
After all, who wouldn't be satisfied seeing King Arthur swinging his broadsword through masses of post-apocalyptic mohawked scumbags?
So, yeah.  I wrote a story called King Arthur vs. Aleister Crowley and the Punk Rockers.  Good times.  It just seems so much more fun than: King Arthur vs. the Disenfranchised Youths.

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