I'm watching as an autumnal sun drowns beneath waves of motley.
As a crisp dusk looms over an ever-deepening gloom,
one can't help but brood over our mortality.
Despite our aversion, it seems that all nature forces us to gaze.
It is the season of death.
We devise all manner of ghastly ghouls,
maniacal murderers, and harlequin horrors
to distract us from winter's barren Bardo,
just as likely to lead towards oblivion as rebirth.
Despite humanities pretenses of elemental mastery
we still celebrate macabre rituals at the cusp of this annual doom.
We invent the terrifying and unlikely, to mask unbearable reality.
We may only abide so many horrors before we are broken,
but failing to confront them at all wounds our humanity.
Once we deal in symbols we gain emotional distance,
but the are conspicuous realities behind these abstractions.
What is the roving hoard of zombies compared to the real horrors
of natural disaster, drug addiction, or economic collapse?
Each with its own kind of impoverished "looters"
coveting an ounce of middle-class flesh.
How can a clandestine enclave of vampires equal a secret
and powerful cabal of pedophiles and sex traffickers?
In what mind do the works of witches or the exaltation
of a satanic coven begin to amass a litany of sins
proportionate to that of religious
fundamentalism or State Atheism?
What is a slumbering Lovecraftian deity before the power of
global atomic annihilation?
These symbols are not so easily dismissed,
for they are part of a shared human truth.
Reality, distant, unknowable, lies just beyond truths reach.
However, our first glimpse of nightmares once ignored is paralyzing.
Because you see...
You are nor safe after Halloween.
You are not safe in springs bloom.
You are not safe behind locked doors, tall fences, or even from behind your pistol.
There is no security in your preparations, none in your prayers, pleadings, or ignorance.
You will die.
Everything you love will rot.
Our history is simulacrum. our traditions counterfeit, and every moment uncertain.
Grasping you will find nothing but crumbling bits of old time.
Even these decay and one day soon will die with you.
released October 26, 2016
All words and music by PMW Norton October 2016
all rights reserved