The Tradition

In the Middle Ages, there were fish gods. My favorite one was christened Dagon. The problem was the amount of sacrifices these beings demanded. Blood was everywhere: in your hair, on all the chairs, rushing down the stairs… Aqua Deity hemoglobin even began to fill the hallways of those mansions that we often see in B-movies that escaped from Hollywood during the nineteen forties and fifties. 

Human reason was crowned with photo-communication around the 7th Century A.D.

Magi are still trying to harness the force of architectural realism in order to have a place to store all their powers. They have mystical scriptures and mystical symbols that not even the official owners of mysticism know what to do with.

And everyone talks in a language that is older and more superior than anything you’ve heard; so, of course, you can’t understand a word they’re saying. It’s all esoteric and theosophic, neoplatonic or gnostic. Symbols of the inner life, and everything is radiating. Emanating and flowing dynamically, breaking apart into subdivisions that are beyond human contemplation; and then they claim that they are Endlessness. Or sometimes they call themselves The Everlasting One — now THAT’s art. But I’m growing tired, so let’s save our progress in cosmical code and go crystalize in 13th Century Spain. Grab a cup of coffee and start some trends. Maybe form another school.