The Taming Of The Mole

The Taming Of The Mole

Part (i)

Memo # 7: Information Desk
Fwd To: Rob Noyland (Ed)
From: Oswald Spengler (CA Chief Ed)

I just got this screed back from some guy called "Gecko". I know for a
fact that he is a treacherous lunatic with a heart of coal and a
callous brain of exploitation - a preternatural coveting beast who
stalks single mothers and eats sparrows. He has the morals of an old
English king and shits on the graves of vicars. What he says is as
comforting as a hurricane, and his handwriting is incomprehensibly
scrawled from racing to finish the article before the sun rises. It is
like a visual form of stomach cramp - and it scares me. But fuck, this
is the way I earn my bags of gold. It keeps my doors locked at night
and gives my eight year old daughter something to think about on those
lonely winter evenings when the glass in the window shivers like a
ghost and the bedsheets aren't tight enough and her skin feels all
wrought and bitter...

How can the soiled paper of a proven pervert come to disease the
harnessing plywood of my front desk?
Hell, remember that time we stomped those insolent dykes outside the
Miss Wolverhampton Pageant in '94? Yes, they were inferior, but we
kicked their shitters anyway...if they screw with us they are walking a
dicey path through a cave of knife icicles. We came, we saw, we tore
off their bras! This is the kind of bashing I'd like to give that
brainless hack from Current Affairs. We could call it 'The Rape Of The
Banshee'. To hell with these chic backstabbers with their nails of fire
and blinding winks of deceit...survival of the strongest - kill, maim,
fuck, eat - we must take control and stop this habitual duplicity. It
comes like the seasons now, so we must snap their fingers off - crack,
crack!

What kind of a world do we live in anyway, where snooker players
release pop songs? Shit, next we will be seeing Tony Blair on a gusty
hilltop every sunrise facing West and reciting the Lords Prayer right
before the breakfast newscasts.
But so what?
These things I can live with...but Gecko is a fragment of debris from a
rigorous blast of callowness - which is left like old bones at the end
of every week in amongst the chaos of my front desk. And this is why I
feel fit to pass it on to you. Why the fuck do I deserve it? Work here
is like scratching my own eyeballs out...without having to deal with
things like this.
We may be our own perverts, we ride a smooth skin of querulous
credence, but we always endeavor to follow the beam of the Great Torch.
We are fools of a different guild, our shadows disappear through fog
and our names can be heard bouncing off the wings of vultures. They may
call us bigots, but we are only shielding our eyes...

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Part (ii)

To: Rob Noyland (Ed), c/o Oswald Spengler (CA Chief Ed)
From: Seth Gecko, Current Affairs

"It is lurid and melodramatic, but it is true" - DH Lawrence

There is a lot of terrible shit in this world, Rob, and this world is a
hell of a big place. So you better watch your step. Right. And so much
for quotes, too - they are no more than a deft form of plagiarism after
all. Writing this required incessant foresight, it was like treading
through some perilous lexical minefield - how can someone of my psyche
possibly attempt to straighten so painstakingly evil an incident as the
bombing of the two great towers? I recall political author Geoffrey
Bocca saying something like "Wit, it is a treacherous dart. It is
perhaps the only weapon with which it is possible to stab oneself in
ones own back". Indeed - a noisy torrent of poisonous darts and arrows.
Beware the hand of Fate, he throws a mean bomber...

Shit, another quote...can't I write my own work? Anyway, this makes me
nervous, because I know I must scribe like a wily beast - not only in
the literal sense, hands moving across the keyboard like they were
attached to ten small spiders - but also in the prose style. I feel
like the gladiator entering the coliseum to face the Emperor - but I
will try not to think about it. Maybe you should take your glasses off,
or put some of those unusual tealeaves in your brew again before
reading all this...'imagine', as John Lennon used to sing. But I am
sure you will keep the gates of your mind unbolted for me as you always
(are forced to) do. I suspect the general consensus may be to set fire
to something like this, give it a public burning, hoisted like a flag
in some shabby town square. And then me, torched in a small wicker
statue on a high cliff in Dumfries, with the ghost of Anthony Shaffer
by my side, pointing out to the sea and laughing ironically. But never
mind, eh? Rise up, and bathe the world in light, right? Right...

zip
Hell yes, you or I could say, we are very badly done to these days,
because we are teenagers. We never get enough money, the people around
us are all rotten bastards who stare at us for absolutely no reason and
make us feel like snakes in a remote campsite at 3am in the morning,
and on top of this we now have to contribute to bills for fucks sake -
for somewhere we have lived pour-gratis for the past fifteen or sixteen
years! Still, I get to leave school this year - my newest teacher is
like the devil masquerading on Earth, taking the piss out of all the
people he meets because they think he doesn't exist. My sudden car
insurance situation is as welcome as a tall man in black carrying a
scythe, so now I have to get up at fucking 9am every Saturday morning
to serve some icy-eyed business wizards just so I can drive home on the
same streets as them.
It makes no sense, I mean what's the point?
Just last Friday my ID failed in some club nowhere on a wet main street
and now the fuckers know my face. If I ever go near that place again
they'll recognize me immediately and tie my arm around my neck. My arm
already hurts anyway, because the old noble outside the off-license
wouldn't give me his money, so I had to bash his head in with my bare
fist.
Fuck, who cares? These are only the first things really.

Indeed, but enough of that gibberish.

Could you possibly understand - being sat against the window on a
plane, asleep. Standing in some room of twisted reality somewhere,
perhaps with familiar people. When all of a sudden you come awake, and
the plane is starting to accelerate down at a perverse angle and people
everywhere are screaming and waving and shouting in many languages,
some in howled prayer, and when you train your eyes to stop and
concentrate and search for a reason you suddenly see the increasing
grey loom of an enormous tower block approaching at 100mph right in the
center of the cockpit window, filling the entire view from the pane.
You can feel the line of flight grab you as the speed increases further
and everything around you is being pulled down intensely by some
enormous hand (I hope this isn't too brutal - but it is just honest. I
guess that's what journalism should try to be anyhow - but we'll see
which way the screw turns). In the Crusades and in the later Middle
Ages, Muslim suicide squadrons were used to shock the adversary, and a
suicide bomber is normally promised a place in Allah's House where he
or she will be feasted and every comfort tended to that they could not
receive in this lifetime. Yet how can this be if the pathway is built
in the aforementioned manner...how can you put so many people into that
state of terrible awareness and actually go against your religion and
expect for the consequences to be positive?
I mean, what could be more terrifying than knowing you were suddenly
certain to die within the next few seconds...that this was the last
thing?

Well, how would it feel? The justified paranoia of terrorism is totally
understandable right now, because it is extremely fearsome and
tangible. For everyone, in all the countries - at least this is what
they tell us, and they also say we must join a grazed hand with those
over the great waters and protect our freedom - or we ourselves may
find our backsides on fire...
(Shit, wait, I just got a call - my flight to Magaluf has been
cancelled because of all this - fuck, I don't believe those thoughtless
crooks - but then I guess that's what comes with booking Flight
Versailles)

Indeed.

I mean, what if today it's all so different? I can't know what to
expect from something as paradoxically confusing as a Jihad.

A holy war? Religion never really made that much sense, you can never
know how to take it. Sometimes it seems very fair, other times it sucks
on the balls of goats. Religion should never have been so greatly
pushed - I mean, we don't know for sure that it isn't just an old
con...or indeed the real thing it claims to be. Yet now and in history
people continue to perish in front of this mysterious shroud - why is
it, really? The bible is undisputed evidence is it? Indeed. Well it
might be, maybe...but the point is we don't know - a book is a book but
with religion there's no real life actuality. Or maybe I'm just not as
enlightened as others may be...and so be my ignorance on my neck if
that is the case. This is why people fear aspects of their life. They
fear what may happen to them if they "sin" - or they worry about the
hypocrites so crazy drunk about the prevalence of the truest religion
that they fight murderously for their cause - either way it is a rather
large and noticeable root for very many diseased trees - and this has
caused the emergence (albeit a very long time ago) of the word "war".
Why the fuck for? What were we jealous of anyway? I think we at some
point need to question the most basic of things, even if the problem is
a two thousand year old one.

Ah...how do you go about that one? It is no envious task and would
probably get you killed almost immediately - even if you did your best
research. So now our religion is like a permanent padlock of some kind,
indefinitely unbreakable. With us behind it. Religion could be a good
thing - principally of course, well some of it anyway...but it never
takes into account the visible reality. We are led to believe that the
laws and ideals of the people are honourable to the wishes of fellow
persons, and were based on truth, individual freedom and fairness. This
reads like a complete description of the opposite of human nature, and
is painfully indicative of our existent reality. It is an enigma
wearing the ignorance of a phoney. The failure of this to register on a
mass scale is weird - but not many people in the Big Scheme Of Things
seem to notice too much...

The American approach to world politics is one of extreme confidence
and maintains a high belief in the ability of yourself to tell the
truth. Sometimes it is more of a Hells Angels approach to these
affairs... "We're just ready to go over there and kick butt!" said one
serviceman in Virginia before flying over to Afghan dust ...and these
things can lead to unease, especially the further East you go - but
politics is a brothel of corruption anyway.
Attach the Gulf War - Iraq, in an attempt to recover from the expensive
eight year war with Iran, had been seeking to control its own oil
reserves - independence which the Western oil companies could not
allow. The conflict was seemingly engineered to effectively destroy
Iraq both economically and in terms of its population. In November
1989, US loans to Iraq were guaranteed providing that the money was
used to buy US farm produce. Instead, as expected, Saddam Hussein used
the money for arms and defaulted on the loans. The US taxpayer is now
picking up the bill for rearming the 'enemy'. Britain furtively off
loaded some of these arms too...
And we all know Roosevelt did have a funny feeling at Pearl
Harbour.

Of course - but the past is habitual it seems, and this is all a
cyclical aspect of nature. The truth we are told is a mirror in which
we can truly see the great lie of reality.

But the point approaching is that more homage should have been paid to
the American Airlines passengers than actually was done - if you think
about what your thoughts would be in that situation.
(Don't try it - sorry, meant to insert that - it is so hypnotic through
its inherent evilness you end up writing things like this).
Why bother anyway? Everyone knows how bad it is - look at them on TV,
ghosts leaning out of the smoke on all five channels. Or the few
pictures that every single newspaper put to press, sorely gratuitous
photos of the workers who jumped out of some of the highest windows in
the world. These things are shocking to look at, I know - but jesus,
the thoughts and feelings of those people is something impossible to
imagine because it is simply too frightening. To look down and step
forward at the same time in that situation is one of the most poignant
images of our civilization. It is things like this that give us a true
understanding of humanity.

What could we have done about it, then? Well, maybe something official,
something that everyone can point to, for the interests of
personalization. Put it somewhere significant and make it massive too,
so that we can see its gaze on a beach horizon somewhere very calm and
very blue that only a few (lucky) individuals on this whole Earth know
of. Those who feel satisfied in their simple yet unruffled lives, those
to whom the word "war" is only a simile.

Now I know how Annie Edson Taylor felt in the barrel...plunging into a
deafening blindness...