Writing in 1915 Thomas Burke sets up as an early Euro-sceptic. To make things worse, the whole place is alive with Germans. George and Weedon Grossmith set The Diary of a Nobody within the area, with their protagonist Charles Pooter settled comfortably at Brickfield Terrace, Holloway, within the suburbs of oblivion. By 1892 the area’s a byword for monotony, a steampunk Neasden. All the tantric energy moves on, leaves an exhausted absence in its wake, a drained erotic void safe for the middle class. One of London’s sexual organs is made flaccid. Come the nineteenth century’s end, the carnival is shut down, following complaints from neighbours. The sixteen hundreds find the site of one of London’s designated pleasure hills, a place where Samuel Pepys could blow tobacco snots upon the cobbles. Originally a Roman summer garrison, the area gets a walk on in the Doomsday Book as ‘Tolentone’, the higher town. Highbury was amnesiac, whole sections of its past were blank, a geriatric out on day-release and lost somewhere on the Victoria line, only identifiable by dental records, Iron-age crusts, a Saxon bone or two. No serial murderers, no ghosts, it didn’t even merit bold type in the A to Z. Highbury wasn’t at Death’s door, it was halfway down Death’s passage, hanging up its coat. Obviously, this was before we’d seen the patient. Tables tilted while you wait, manifestations are us. Slap up a wall of ectoplasm, standard Moon and Serpent contract. First you diagnose the area in question, read the street-plan’s accidental creases, and decode the orbit-maps left there by coffee cups, then go to work. We check the pressure in the song-lines, lag etheric channels, and rewire the glamour. This where we come in: think of us as Rosicrucian heating engineers. All the hot-spots cool down, mammal lights smearing on the surveillance camera. Brute thermodynamics kicks in, and the meaning bleeds away into hard vacuum. The calendar gets ready to ejaculate a string of zeros, and our map is bed-soiled in the premature congratulation. The Highbury job appeared straightforward one more metropolitan collapsar faced with dreamtime relegation the whole postal district bleaching out, charisma-challenged, one more municipal flatline seeking voodoo CPR. You wouldn’t send a dog out on a night like this. The old Dutch called it ‘slachtmaand’, slaughter month. November 1997, and the cue-arm of the century jumps in its lead-out groove. For the moment, though, here's The Highbury Working: A Beat Séance Later on, jody_macgregor and myself started doing annotations on this, and perhaps some day we'll get back to it, and actually finish them!Īs time goes by, and as time allows, I'll try to put up the text of the other Moore CDs. I should point out that there are three places in the text where I couldn't work out what Moore was saying. But you are not especially good with details you need others to help you deal with the smaller parts of the picture.Here, behind the cut, is the text of Alan Moore and Tim Perkins' 2000 CD The Highbury Working: A Beat Séance, number three in RE:'s RE:play series. In general, you also see the methods necessary to fulfill that promise. You dream of big projects, great undertakings, and rewards. “You want success in its fullest meaning - wealth, power, and material comforts. You must learn to discriminate between illusion and reality, but you are well equipped for this task.” Inner analysis of Conseance by heart number 8 You are driven by a desire for knowledge and truth. You can be a great researcher, educator, and philosopher. You possess clarity and persistence in your search for truth. You have a strong interest in exploring scientific matters, philosophy, and even mysticism. “You are gifted with an analytical mind and an enormous appetite for the answers to life's hidden questions. Talent analysis of Conseance by expression number 7 Conseance name personality by numerology Numerology (Expression Number)
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