Daily Archives: 06/16/2005

Moloch?

In case anybody missed it, this is Moloch referred to by Kunstler, and used in the title of my last post.

The Moloch Broadside, by Lynd Ward

The Moloch Broadside
Poetry by Allen Ginsberg
Engraving by Lynd Ward

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgement! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!

Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! Omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!

Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal creams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

1956

Copyright © 2004-2009, Mick Arran. Some rights reserved. Fair use encouraged.

The Human Animal And The American Moloch

While I am at it, here’s a couple really interesting posts on the long fall: First, The Human Animal, an interview with T.C. Boyle, author of Drop City and After the Plague.

Second, I came across a weblog by none other than James Howard Kunstler, author of Long Emergency. He’s the guy telling us we’re headed for a nasty fall when the cheap oil gravy train runs out. He just spent a few days in California, and he came away with exactly my sense of that God-forsaken land.

Now, for the sake of fairness, how about I post a link to an essay by Bruce Sterling, futurist and sci-fi author of Tomorrow Now and Schismatrix (and Mirrorshades contributor), on how technology will save all our asses and get us out of this mess. God I hope he’s right, but I have this sinking feeling that this technological salvation is a pipe dream. Our country is not a climate conducive to science or technology. It seems like every year anti-intellectuals, recidivists and conservatives intent on throwing the country back into the 18th century gain more and more strength. And at the same time, the mindless prattle of television saps what little intellect remains. Just look at all the coverage over the Michael Jackson trial, or this girl that disappeared in Aruba. This nonstop hysteria drains the mind and deadens the spirit.

Sorry, I’m ranting. I don’t want to rant. Time to go cool off for awhile.